Blood is Thicker Than Water
by BamItsTyler
Summary: Twins Rose and Sage are Reaped to participate in the Third Quarter Quell in which the twist calls for adults across the spectrum to participate alongside those of Reaping age. Facing insurmountable odds, watch as our two protagonists navigate though. As they meet other tributes and branch out for themselves, they must remember that blood is always thicker than water. . . [Sequel].
1. Prologue

**_Note: This is a Standalone sequel to Emery Smithsonian: Fight For Survival. There will be characters and references earlier on (The first 3-4 chapters) but other than that it shouldn't be hard to follow along if you choose. :). And I hope you do. I feel that with the first few chapters that I've written, I'm doing a lot better as a writer than I was a year ago._**

**_This story is also . . . what? Non Canon? Disregard the whole katniss thing, lets just say that she died without incident_**

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><p><strong><em>Acknowledgements: Thanks Menty, Danny, Lya and Jamez, among countless other Followers and Favourite(rs). When I began Emery's story, I didn't expect it to lead to this! Thank you Avi, for being my beta! This story wouldn't be what it is without your polishing :3.<em>**

**_Note:_ _This prologue will be used in a future chapter and will be tweaked extensively. I was advised to keep things vague._**

**_Welcome to my second OC story . . . I've learned a lot during my first story and I hope this one will be just as extensive and better polished than the first :P._**

**_The jacket (Image) for this fic is my interpretation of Rose. :D._**

**_Lets get this over with now . . . I don't own the Hunger Games! but I DO own a nickle and a chewed pen cap._**

**_..._**

**_Prologue: Launch Day _**

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><p><strong><em>Rose<em>** . . .

* * *

><p><em>"Five minutes until launch."<em>

I let out a low, hesitant exhale as I rock against the steel wall of the arena's catacombs. The sheer anticipation of what's to come kills me slowly as each second dwindles away. There can only be _one. _

_ONE_victor, not two.

Who's to say Sage and I will last long? What happens if it comes down to me and him . . .? Then what?

"Eat something Rose." Clay tells me, handing me a bottle of water and an apple. "You'll regret it later if you don't."

"Who knows if there'll even be a later to worry about?" I snap.

"You weren't _this_ lowly during the week?" he smirks.

"Yeah, that was when I didn't have a chance to just sit down and _think_."

He laughs quietly, gently raising my chin with his thumb. "You remind me of your sister eight years ago . . ." he draws my attention back to him, stopping me from zoning out. I accept his kind gesture by taking the apple, savouring it with slow, calculating bites as he begins to pace from one side of the room to another.

"With all her insecurities came _resilience, courage!_I'm positive you have the same traits she did. You can do it Rose, I believe in you. Show em' what you can do," He takes me by the hand and pulls me up to my feet, brushing a curl of hair out of my face.

"Like I told your sister not too long ago . . . Swinging a sword with perfect form means nothing, size means nothing, all that matters is what you got-" he taps my forehead "-up here. If everything works well up there, I don't see how you can't succeed."

I smile warmly, pulling him into a warm embrace.

"Thank you, for everything." I say.

"Thank _you,_Rose." He replies solemnly.

_"Tributes should now be in their launch pods . . ."_

Upon hearing the announcement I grip Clay tighter, receiving an encouraging back-rub in return. "I guess this is it, goodbye Clay." I say, giving him a confused smile as he begins to chuckle warmly.

"What?"

He lets out a sigh, caressing my cheek. "Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting."

With that, he escorts me by hand up the ramp towards the infamous glass tube that will ferry me to an uncertain fate.

With a heavy sigh and a roll of my shoulders, I take my place inside the pod wincing as the glass encloses itself around me. I smile weakly as the pod begins to rise, watching as Clay gives me a lavish bow and turns face, leaving the launch room.

Its pitch black now, the only thing that could be heard is the ominous whir of the hoist mechanism as it carries me upward. I'm greeted with warm, stifling air as the roof above me splits open, placing me smack dab in the middle.

Without looking to my left or right, I focus on the set of knives situated just outside the mouth.

_Get a few knives,_get out. Kill anyone who gets in my way, got it. I'm a relative of a Victor, victory runs in the family now. I mise well uphold that mantra as true.

As the cannon fires, I dive headfirst into the saltwater. Within a matter of strokes, I reach the nearest spoke, I grab hold, pulling my self over the edge and continuing my sprint towards _my_knife set. All I hear is the blood rushing through my head and my feet pounding the sand as I converge on my item. I'm the first to reach, almost tripping over my feet as I scramble to my knives.

I'm almost done. _Almost _home free.

I frantically pick up the roll of knives and begin to take my leave as the first sounds of clashing of metal and shrill screams begin to arise, only for my head to jerk violently before I tumble to the ground.


	2. One

**_Blood Is Thicker Than Water _**

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><p><strong><em>Act I: A day in the life.<em>**

**_One._**

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><p><em><strong>Rose <strong>__**Smithsonian, sixteen years of age.**_

_**May 25th, 2149.  
><strong>_

I sit lazily on my chair. My beige rucksack neatly placed on the floor and my Mary-Jane's propped up on my desk. Tapping my freshly shaven pencil against my cheek, I blankly gaze at the clock on the west side of the room waiting for my class in agriculture fundamentals to be over and done with so we could move on to our last fifteen minute break until forth period assembly. Mr. Carmichael means well, but there's so much more to worry about rather than how to properly maintain a garden or how to properly identify a certain herb.

Everyone in this room,_including_ Mr. Carmichael may only have forty eight hours to live comfortably in their own homes.

I let out a sigh of relief as the PA system lets out a two tone chime from a xylophone, signalling the end of the period. The classroom erupts in the chatter of students eager to be on break and chairs being moved.

"And that's all from chapter seven for today folks. Enjoy your holiday." states Mr. Carmichael as he clears the board of today's lesson. I send a small smile his way as he returns the notion.

"You be safe now Rose, y'hear? Tell your sibs I said hi." he muses, holding my shoulder the way a parent would to put their child at ease.

"Mhm," I nod, slipping my rucksack onto my shoulders.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever _in your favour!" he adds, mimicking our District's long time, overly dramatic Escort Minnie LaFontaine. This earns a few laughs or two from me and other students as we leave our classroom and head off to different areas of the building.

With one thousand five hundred students strong and three storey's tall, Wolfmark Redpath Secondary School is most definitely _the_ most well maintained building within District 11.

Funded by three out of our five Victors in honour of our first ever Hunger Games winner, its easily better looking than our Hall of Justice. Our classrooms and library are well furnished, our teacher's are qualified and there are a small handful of activities you can join such as art, track and field and my personal favourite, field hockey.

This may seem a little bit abnormal for a District riddled with social issues like poverty to name a few, but attending a school like this comes with a price. To get in you must pay a tuition for each year you attend. We go through Year's Nine to Thirteen and you must be between the ages of fourteen to twenty to attend, although we only have a few dozen twenty year olds. I plan on attending all the way though since a certain someone has all the money in the world to see to it that I do so. We're much more lucky we aren't like other communities, in which their teachers are drunkards or don't even bother showing up.

"Hey Rosie-Rose,"

I turn the voices way to get an arm full of Malini Jennings. Malini and I go _way _back, seven years of age to be exact. She's about average height, has chocolaty skin and sports a green headband with her dark dreads that seem to only reach her shoulders. Her green headband goes along well with the schools green and black plaid skirt and white blouse uniforms. Her dark brown eyes bore into mine as I gleefully pull her back into a hug.

"Hey ugly," I jeer.

"Who you callin' ugly with that unkept hair of your's? You should get a tonic at the marketplace, it'll fix that hair _right_ up!"

"I don't need a tonic 'lini!" I mumble with a hint of annoyance, running my fingers past my wild, thick curly hair that grows past my shoulders resembling the likes of an overgrown plant. The girls in our family all get the same complements about how lush and plentiful our hair seems to be. Don't get me started on our eyes and smiles, they basically _define_ what it takes to be a female member of the family. "I like my hair this way." I playfully strike a pose as she rolls her eyes with amusement.

"Whatever.".

We continue our walk down a stairwell and down to the main hallway in which everyone tends to congregate. I gleefully respond to the many greetings that come my way and ignore the countless whispers that tend to arise every time a person with the last name "Smithsonian" is in the room.

"Look! There she is." muses a student.

"I see her! She and her look alike . . ." says another.

"I saw her sister just a few minutes ago . . . can you _believe_ she won at _twelve _years old?"

I learn to ignore the whispers of my fellow schoolmates, although it's pretty neat to receive so much attention. _Yup_, the Smithsonian family is pretty much a household name.

"So!" Malini hums nonchalantly as we arrive at our lockers, "How many slips?"

I glance up at her while I enter my combination, "Um . . . five, you?"

" . . .Twenty,". I hang my rucksack up before turning her way.

"That's not bad at all, really . . ." I say, rubbing her shoulder encouragingly. "-And with that twist that was chosen, the odds of us getting picked plummet."

She scrounges up her lips shaking her head slightly, "Aren't you scared for tomorrow in the _slightest_? Imagine the careers this year . . ." she shudders.

I shake my head in a so-so motion. "Not _really._"

I lied. I'm _more_ than scared. The reaping is t'morrow, and they ain't no plain ol' reaping either. It's a _quarter quell,_the third one to be exact. The twist? Three tributes, don't matter what gender, between the ages of twelve to fifty are selected to fight. For the adults originally out of reaping age, their slips from where they left off will be counted. Although my chances of being selected are far lower then they'll ever be, I can't help but feel anxious.

Anxious for Mama, anxious for Pop, anxious for Magnolia . . .

"If you say so Rose! You're a braver woman than I ever was." Malini coos, placing a hand on my shoulder. She lets out an amused cry as I lightly shove her away. I'm about to reply as a four tone chime of a xylophone cuts me off. As if on que, all students within the hallway lift their eyes to the nearest intercom.

"Good afternoon staff and students!" trills the voice of Principal Persephone L'Amoreaux, a Victor herself along with her twin brother Vincent, who won the year before her. She's the stuff of legend within the District, a champion of education and better opportunities for its citizens.

"If those in Years Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen could make their way down to the auditorium for the Recollection Day ceremonies, it'd be greatly appreciated. That is all."

"Great, hopefully this assembly will end quickly so I can take this _stupid_ carnation off." Malini grumbles, causing me to fumble with the tiny flower pinned to my left side.

Recollection Day is a national holiday installed by the Capitol during the end of the Dark Days to commemorate the losses of the Peacekeepers who died on the line of duty, etcetera, etcetera . . . Apparently in some battle I could care less about, for every Peacekeeper who fell, three rebels were killed, thus the quell twist. For the entire month of may, it's custom we wear a carnation in 'recollection' of their feats. This is probably most likely why the Game's are being held earlier than usual.

"It's so weird . . ." Malini murmurs.

"What?" I say. She points as we stride past the painted portraits of our past Victors. My sisters portrait is situated in the middle, looking extravagant yet content as usual.

"She's a Victor, yet she still comes to school like the rest of us. She's free to lounge around all day if she had her druthers . . ."

I give her an uncertain shrug. "Maybe it's her way of feeling normal?".

I'm glad Emery hasn't turned to the bottle or any form of substance to cope with her victory unlike some before her. She may be a little more skittish and introverted than I remember but at least she's still _her._If social outlets such as schooling helps keep her mind off unfortunate events, who are we to judge?

Malini and I join a crowd of students as we converge on the auditorium, hastily pushing through others to get the seats farthest from the stage. On both the left and right hand sides, teachers, most notably Principal L'amoreaux and Mr. Carmichael, can be seen lounging around the edges keeping tabs on students.

With two hundred and fifty seats, the auditorium is _the_ most spectacular room in the building hands down. With student made nature themed murals strewn from one wall to another, I'm positive everyone in the school takes great pride in this room. Due to it not being big enough, Years have to be called down in twos and threes to avoid crowding. We also have an invisible hierarchy established by us students. By seniority, Year Twelve and Thirteen's take the highest spots while the Elevens, including Malini and I, take what's left. This rule is subject to change, depending on the order in which we get called.

With a couple more "Hi's" and "Hello's" to other classmates, we quickly take our seats beside Savannah who happens to be my second best friend only to Malini. Out of the three us, she seems to be the most reserved. Her innocent, meek attitude sometimes makes it seem as if she weren't beside you at all. She's also ashen skinned, a minority in this District and has brunette hair that seems to come down in waves to her shoulders. Her mud brown eyes support the plain features her face seems to hold so nicely.

"I thought y'all were gonna miss our propaganda shower." she smiles at the sight of us. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." I roll my eyes, my voice embedded with sarcasm. I settle down into my seat, only to stir as others seem to be fixated on someone.

"Look, its the lady of _every hour_ of the day . . ." jeers Malini. Savannah smiles to herself while I roll my eyes, finally knowing what all the fuss is about.

The small group of Thirteenth Years enter the auditorium, lead by none other than _the _Emery Smithsonian herself.

Victor of the Sixty Seventh Annual Hunger Games and the nations youngest winner at twelve years of age, Emery still continues to remain a Capitol heartthrob although she won eight years ago. Like me, she's of average height, plain faced supported by smoky grey eyes, natural puffy hair that cascades down her shoulders as well with a petite yet curvy build. The nickname "Panem's Sweetheart", is still in full swing.

She still gets constantly called back and forth from here to the Capitol for reasons I'm not too sure of. I hear she does a lot of modeling and attends parties. To folks in 11 she still remains the talk of the town, all while bringing speculation and controversy wherever she walks. In fact, I don't even know what went on during her games as Mama or Pop refrain from telling me and I'm reluctant to ask Emery herself. I was about eight years old when she was drawn, too oblivious to really delve in what took place. With her rucksack hugged against her chest, she catches me gawking at her and sends a soft smile my way, prompting me to return the notion.

As the last of the students find their seats, the auditorium lights dim and the opening stanza of the anthem begins to play accompanied by grainy archival footage of the Dark Days. In fear of being observed, It takes every fibre of my being to keep from nodding off to sleep. I imagine for a brief moment snuggling up in one of Emery's plush beds in Victor's Village. . .

_._

_._

A sharp sting courses through my right arm as I jolt upwards. I smile as if nothing was the matter. I turn to my right, glaring as Malini notions for me to keep awake. While the film comes to a close, Principal L'amoureaux moves from in between Mr. Carmichael and Mrs. Hernandez, our home economics teacher, to take her place on stage. She wears a pink suit that is more based off of a 'conservative' style rather than an outlandish one you'd see a Capitolite wearing.

"Good afternoon students,"

"Good afternoon Principal L'amoreaux." we say on one accord.

"Thank you for assembling so quickly. If y'all give Mayor Fleming a _warm_ welcome, it'd be much appreciated.".

We all clap with little to no enthusiasm as Mayor Fleming takes the podium.

A somewhat withered man, roughly in his sixties, Mayor Fleming by a long shot is the most pro-Capitol man within a District that would throw up arms without a second thought. Listening to him prattle on about our_'glorious Capitol'_would be a perfect opportunity for me to catch some well needed Z's.

"Thank you for the warm welcome Ms. L'Amoureaux. Indeed this is a solemn day for our glorious nation as we gather here today to honor our noble Peacekeepers and to remember the sacrifices they have made in the name of duty, honor and country."

He had me at "warm".

* * *

><p>After roughly half an hour of propaganda, patriotic hymns, a moment of silence and multiple prods from Malini to keep me from checking out completely, we were dismissed for the day. Only stopping off to get my rucksack, we quickly launch ourselves out the front doors and down the steps of our school into the busy streets of Perimeter Center.<p>

Perimeter Center, also known as Zone 1 or as myself alongside others call it "The Junction", serves as an administrative center for District activity as we're taught in school. With the train tracks heading westbound towards the Capitol and another set northbound towards smaller villages in the District crossing into each other, alongside the constant hum of processing plants and the crunching boots of factory hands moving to and fro makes "The Junction" a fitting name. The junction holds the Peacekeeper Garrison, a small merchant community, as well as members of the regional government and their families to which we function in relative peace.

Kids like Savannah, Malini and I being children of officials, have fewer entries in the bowl therefore a lower chance of being drawn.

"Aaaaaah! The sun! Feels _sooo_ good." Malini moans, attracting the nosy eyes of some of the students walking past. She earns a smack upside the head from yours truly.

Savannah waves and saunters off in another direction, mewing something along the lines of "Stay safe." leaving Malini and I where we stand.

"See you t'morrow Savannah." Malini waves after our friend to follows her notion. "So, what's the plan now?" she inquires.

"To the marketplace?" I say, eyeing a squad of Peacekeepers conversing with a group of students.

"Why? So we can get that tonic for that hair of yours?" a coy smile spreads across her face in return to my straight lipped glare.

I scoff. "Hurry up, you." grabbing her arm, I tug her down the street as the Peacekeeper patrol gets a little too close for comfort. We trot down Main Street, gawking at the red and gold banners that fly from every available hinge. A Capitol lady, judging by her vibrant red dress fitted with an abundance of white roses, stands behind the already set up registration desk with a cameraman most likely reporting ahead of tomorrows reaping. At least a half mile ahead of the lady is a series of wide screens, velvet ropes and the Justice Building, to fit the quadrupled number of those in the reaping. As our eyes continue to beam towards the construction, we crash into the solid form of Commander Kia Temple.

"Smithsonian, Jennings, what are you doing snooping around? Don't you see we're busy around here?" she deadpans, her eyes staying glued to her data tablet.

Her District 2 accent confuses me, as her dark brown skin and her shortened jet black hair fits right in the rest of 11's populace. The thought of her having a local accent prompts the corners of my lips to twitch into a smile. She's a decent person to keep conversation with, better than old authoritarian Head Peacekeeper Ponder who gave command to Temple just a few months back.

"We ain't snoopin' ma'am . . ." Malini beams with a toothless smile.

"Not at all Commander Temple, Malini here and I are jus' on our way to the marketplace!" I trill softly, balling my fists together as I bat my eyelashes.

"_Hmph_, fool me once," Temple sends a snide smile our way. "Be on your way you two.".

"Have a good afternoon Commander." I coo, sending a goofy salute her way.

* * *

><p>After swinging by the marketplace and picking up a brown hair tonic that'll be used for tomorrow, followed by snacking on some pastries at the local bakery, we decide to head home. Crossing a small plain, we reach a series of detached two storey cottages. By far they are much better than the shacks on the east end of town. It's one of the many perks being a town citizen.<p>

"Have a good evenin' 'lini." I release myself from her hug.

"You too. See you tomorrow?" she smiles softly.

"Be safe y'hear?" I nod, waving her off as she walks diagonally over to her cottage. Twenty slips is meagre weight in a quell as grand as this one, she'll be fine.

_We'll _be fine.

"I'm home!" I say aloud, dropping my rucksack and unfastening my Mary-Jane's. Only three seconds pass until I get an armful of seven year old Pepper.

"Hi Rose!" she beams at me, her grin so contagious I myself begin to grin right back at her.

Always meek and naive, Pepper's innocence prevails in almost everything she does. Her fair brown skin, puffy black hair and rosy red cheeks along with her lively grey eyes support those claims. Sometimes I find myself suppressing the urge to smile or _awwh_ when she offers mews opinion or inquires about something.

I return her hug, smiling as Magnolia's head pokes out from the kitchen. "I made stew if you're hungry."

Entering the kitchen, my stomach immediately growls at the hearty scent of broth that resonates from the kitchen table. I dart towards my share, only to be intercepted by none other than my twin brother Sage.

Sage, the type of boy whose mother would parade him around showing how handsome he had gotten over the years. Older than me by at least a few minutes, Sage has indeed grown into quite the young man. He takes after Pop heavily with the same muscular builds, chiselled features, short wavy hair and signature grey eyes. He has heavy lifting and track and field to thank for his build. He's well over six feet tall, handling me with ease while I attempt to swing a fist his way.

"Simmer down girl! Your shares over there." he says with chuckling in the mix.

"I swear Sage, sometimes I feel like tearing the head of yours _clear off_ your body!" I say, accepting a new bowl from our older sister. "Where's Pop?" I take a bite of some beef, sighing at the taste it brings.

"Justice Building." he replies, pulling Pepper towards him in a playful embrace while she lets out a small shriek of enjoyment.

I nod with uncertainty in the mix. "Lemme see Mama, where's she?"

"Upstairs in her room." says Magnolia.

So here I am peeking into Mama's room, smiling softly at the scene before me. She lies comfortably on her bed caressing my nine year old sister Clementine's hair, who lies on her somewhat rounded stomach rubbing it all while pouting.

"He made me do it Mama . . ." she sulks, turning her head Mama's way.

"Made you do what?" I inquire, entering the room with a smile. Clementine head quickly darts back my way, then slowly back to Mama's.

"Go on child. Tell her what you done did."

Clementine grins before frowning again. "I punched a boy at school today . . .".

Before I burst out laughing, her hand shoots into the air. "But he made fun of my problem!" she defends.

Clementine was born as deaf as a post in both ears. They say that outside speech to her is like hearing speech underwater or something along the lines of that . . . She's not fond of people giving her the business about it, as per the boy she punched today.

"Don't I always tell you to turn the other cheek?" reprimands Mama with a soft undertone.

"I _did_ turn his other cheek, when I punched him!" whines Clementine, oblivious to the common metaphor. Mama's face scowls before bursting into a light fit of soft laughter, as light as the bells that chime in the bell-tower on the Justice Building. A small sigh escapes her lips while she moves the puffy curls of hair away from Clemmy's right ear, revealing a miniature device embedded in it. Hearing aids they call them, a luxury only Emery's position as a Victor could offer.

"Now, now Clementine, there ain't _nothing_ wrong with you, you hear?" with a kiss on the forehead, she sends Clementine on her way. As Clementine leaves, I make my way to Mama's side on the bed. Smiling as she playfully sifts through my hair. We spend what felt like an hour looking into each others eyes until she lets out a thoughtful sigh.

"_Fifteen._ I was _fifteen _years old when I had Emmy and Magnolia. With little ol' me being a Perimeter kid and your father bein' from the poorer side of town, he wouldn't let me file a slip o' tessarae!" She grins, shaking her head as she reminisces.

"By the time it was my last reapin' and I was a few months with you and Sage . . . you know how much tessarae he'd signed up for?"

I smile with a smidge of sadness in the mix, shaking my head.

"At least _sixty _slips or more, I don't know for the love of me how he managed not to get called." she frowns, smoothing down her stomach. "And now, those slips may just come back and bite him in the behind. I couldn't take it to see Emery get taken from me, let alone make it back in one piece . . . I don't know how I'll deal with any of you being called up t'morrow.".

I lay on Mama's shoulder. "It's okay Mama, don't you fret about us. We'll make it back safe just in time for dinner.".

She gazes at me, frowning slightly. "If only it were that easy.".

* * *

><p><strong><em>Perimeter Center- a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia known for its urban sprawl.<em>**

**_Chapter One everyone! Thank you for coming this far if you did! _**

**_Up next: Reaping Day. _**


	3. Two

**_Two._**

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><p><em><strong>Sage Smithsonian, sixteen years of age. <strong>  
><em>

I stand tall, facing my mother's solid oak mirror that's supposedly been in our family for generations. She quickly darts from front to back and side to side, inspecting me for flaws that aren't there. Once finished she smiles softly into the mirror, lightly gripping my shoulders as she glances at my image with glee. My reaping attire consists of a partially buttoned blue and green plaid shirt, along with khakis supported by suspenders.

"Boy," Mama hums, "Do I ever tell you how much you look like your father?"

I smile back at her. "Always Mama," I say, taking in the sheer height difference between her and me.

Meek and soft spoken, you would be surprised to know that Zinnia Smithsonian was only thirty five years of age let alone a proud mother of seven children. With her modest brown eyes, poofy shoulder length curls and overall petite stature you'd think that she were around my age. No words can describe what a beautiful and mighty fine woman Mama is. Having her first children at fifteen, a girl in her shoes would've left Magnolia and Emery at the steps of a Community Home.

She scoffs lightly, patting down my shoulders. "You clean up _mighty fine_ boy, I'm surprised you don't have a girl on your shoulder.".

I roll my eyes, beating down the blush that slowly battles its way across my cheeks. I hear an awful lot of rumors about too many girls having an eye for me it comes across as annoying. All talk and no action is what girls around here seem to be into nowadays.

"Mama, I'm done."

We both turn to meet the eyes of Rose who lounges around at the doorway. She wears a simple cotton knee length dress, unbuttoned enough to see her collar bone and chest. Her green and blue plaid design goes hand and hand with my outfit, a tradition Mama seems to uphold to make the lightest of a gloomy situation. The dress highly defines Rose's somewhat lanky features.

She's been attracting attention from the other boys for a while now and I don't blame them. Everything from her natural curls, to her dark skin and smoky grey eyes screams beautiful. Once she's out of reaping age, she'll have an abundance of suitors to choose from.

"Oh, I see the tonic worked well." Mama strides over towards Rose and examines the brown ends of her curls. I ignore their hushed muttering and giggling about Rose's exposed collarbone and appealing curves. I jog down the stairs, letting out a small grunt as my hip brushes past the mantle that holds black and white portraits of our parent's parents from both sides of the family. Mumbling a soft apology, I adjust the portraits before attempting to head out the door only to be cut off by the sound of someone adjusting their throat.

"Where are you off ta in such a hurry!?"

I turn Pop's way, removing my hand from the knob. My tired eyes meet his chiseled smile and a picture frame in one hand. Looking at my father is comparable to staring down my own reflection - well, a slightly older reflection of myself. The wavy dark hair, fair skin and grey eyes along with the chiseled features I have all belong to him.

"Mornin'. I was just about to head out, y'know, clear my mind a little bit before it all happens." I stride over to him.

He nods in understanding, licking his lips as he places a hand on his hips. "Yeah . . . I don't blame you one bit boy-" a sigh escapes his lips while he picks up a portrait of himself and Mama, both in their teens. They both smile into the camera with her leaning on his shoulder. A part of me thought that boy in the portrait was me at first glance. "-Not one bit.".

"Where's Magnolia?" I ask.

"Back with Julian." he says as I nod and let out a faint _oh. _I forget sometimes that Magnolia is married and lives in the marketplace with her longtime childhood friend, joint owning a grocery store.

My eyes regain focus on my fathers face, frowning slightly while he maintains eye contact with the photo. The strain and anxiety on his face is evident as he continues to study it long enough for Mama and Rose to come down.

"I don't know dear," Pop frowns as Mama ebbs her way to his side. "I have bad feelin' about this one.".

Mama trades glances between us and him as she scoffs lightly, rubbing his side all the while. "Ya'll go on ahead. We'll meet you at registration when it's time."

* * *

><p>We both retain our silence, closing the front door behind us as we take to the streets. Rose waves to Malini and Mrs. Jennings, who sit on their front porch. Mrs. Johnston who happens to be one house ahead of us adjusts her son's shirt for the reaping. Other then them two the street is relatively quiet, an all too common scene on a day like today.<p>

"So, where are we headed?" my twin counterpart asks.

I shake my head. "I'm not even sure myself. I just wanted to get out."

We walk down Main-Street, avoiding town square as we wave to Mrs. Carmichael along with her twelve year old daughter Dew, who tends to fabrics in her display window.

"Emery's?" she proposes, watching as my face sinks into a faint scowl.

The pit of my stomach burns with curiosity at the sound of her name. It's weird, not seeing her as often as I do my other siblings. I blame her overall status that drives a wedge between her and the rest of the family.

"Problem, Sage?"

"No," I shake my head, my voice lower than usual. "No problem at all." she avoids eye contact while we continue to walk towards Emery's home.

Victor's Village is like a miniature Capitol within itself. A small, gated off community with about twelve mansions, in which five of them are occupied by a previous Victor. The Peacekeeper sentries on guard give us no hassle as they open the golden gates and motion us through. Every time I seem to enter my eyes to dart from left to right, taking in the lavish homes entitled to those who managed to escape their Games. From what I notice on television, Villages seem to vary from District to District, often catering to the stereotypes each District is widely known for.

After following a series of cobbled pathways littered with miniature courtyards, bright flowers and birdbaths, we reach Emery's house. Painted a vibrant white with a dark green door and shutters, it looks like the house is composed of three floors when it's only two. The front of the home is decked out with multiple pillars, grand steps and vibrant hedges overflowing with pink and blue flowers. The upper level of the home follows the same notion with the pillars along with a balcony that seems to reach around the sides towards the backyard, or field I should say. All in all, the home is lavish and extravagant, all while catering to the "Southern Comfort" feel.

I smirk as Rose unceremoniously plucks a blue rose from out of a hedge and slips it through her thick curls. "What?" she scoffs, "It goes along well with my dress . . .".

"I ain't complainin'." I smile as we march up the steps and deliver three swift knocks to the front door. The door opens and we're met by a young woman I estimate is in her twenties. She has soft mud brown eyes and flowing brunette hair that seems to fall down to her waist. She has an overall timid and curious stance, as if she were ready to slam the door shut at moments notice.

"Mornin' Penelope!" we chime in unison, slightly discouraged to only receive a toothless smile in return. It's a shame she was made . . . what do they call them now? An _Avox? _Emery took her after she had won her games. Why Emery took her? I don't know for certain. She's an extremely beautiful girl, its unfortunate we can't hear her possibly just as beautiful voice.

_She _sends a meek wave our way before opening the door completely and ushering us inside.

Once inside Penelope quickly fetches a notepad, jots down a sentence and flashes it our way._"Morning guys, Emery's upstairs. I'll show you up." _she writes, beckoning us forward up a set of grand steps.

An inquisitive yet upbeat melody floods the stairwell as we get closer and closer to the source. Penelope leads us to the highest room in the house, partially opening the door to reveal an attic. Penelope's right index finger finds its way towards her lips while she slowly pushes the door forward and ushers us in. Emery seems unaware of our presence as she continues to stroke away at the keys of her piano emitting that lively tune. The way that she plays with such liveliness makes the corners of my lips twitch into a small smirk.

The attic itself is most probably the fanciest within the entire District. Apart from Emery and her piano, the large attic was painted a bright white supported by the Sun shining through a nearby window, taking away any gloomy or barren essence a common attic would carry. Instead of cobwebs or useless knickknacks, paintings neatly hang from wall to wall. Some are about plants while some seem to be portraits of people, more specifically a girl about my age with orange hair and green eyes that seem to glow. The attic is also adorned with blue couches and white pillows along with neat glass tables and blue rugs. Emery herself seems carefree, smiling to herself as she teeters back and forth playing to her hearts content.

"You play _real_ nice Emery!" says Rose.

With that Emery ends the song abruptly, shoulders sagging. Her face loses that happy glow, replacing it with a meek straight faced expression.

" . . . Thank you." she mews flatly, barely a whisper. "I was playing Heart and Soul, it's been 'round for hundreds of years now." her eyes dart from mines to Rose's.

"You should teach us how ta' play sometime." I smirk as Rose nods vigorously.

Our big sister nods slowly while she contemplates my request, finishing with a shrug. "Maybe next time." she rises from the bench she sits on and guides us downstairs, until we reach the kitchen. This room happens to be my favourite room, as the kitchen is fashioned like a bar. It has an "L" shaped white marble counter with a number of black stools to sit on. It gives the home an overall, "fresh" and "flashy" look.

We each sit down to a bowl of assorted fruit served by Penelope. Emery sits on the opposite side. As we settle in, she focuses her attention back on us.

"What brings you guys here?"

Rose smiles while she plops a pineapple into her mouth, she lets out a low mew as she relishes in the taste. "You came across my mind, so I thought we'd visit."

"Oh," she replies, indifferent. "Fair enough." she slips a plump strawberry into her mouth using a tip of a knife.

"What's the problem?" I spit, frowning inwardly at the harshness of my tone. "We can't drop in on our big sis Emery before the big event? What if-"

My neck shifts backward as her knife juts inches away from my face.

Rose lets out a gasp and Penelope stands frozen near the sink, her face almost ten times as pale as it usually is. My eyes are in hysterics and my heart beats a mile per second.

"How 'bout these strawberries eh guys? They taste mighty fine . . ." murmurs Rose with a certain hesitance in her voice. Emery's eyes soften as she retracts the knife. "I'm sorry." she drops the knife, "Don't talk about today so lightly . . . _please_.".

A pregnant silence falls over us for a minute or two, the event that just took place so random I have no words. "Right," I say as I briefly raise my eyebrows, popping a grape into my mouth. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna go look around . . ." I rise from my seat and saunter out of the kitchen and down the hallway. While my sisters continue with conversation, my eyes wander to an open door creaked open slightly enough so that you could see the beginning of a neatly carved wooden desk.

Emery's study.

I crane the door open even further, revealing a neatly furnished office made up of glossy brown shelves that consist of books I didn't know existed and trinkets of all shapes and size. I fiddle with a globe and flip through a page or two of a book before laying my eyes on a second open door. A basement door and by the looks of it, was fashioned to be made hidden as it took on the likeness of the bookshelf.

Looking back and forth from the door I entered and the basement door, I turn flick the switch and slowly inch my way down the stairs. I was surprised to find that this hidden basement was as well furnished as upstairs, finding my feet planted on a cold wooden floor. Everything else in the room was hard to see, as the lights haven't been turned on. When I do find the light switch and flick upwards, I couldn't help but frown in confusion.

One by one, white lights decorated each corner of the room. Over each white light, appears a weapon. A machete, a curved sword, assorted knives and a crossbow are showcased behind glass containers. I fawn over two hatchets with neatly carved indents placed in an "X" formation on a blue velvet pillow before moving on to another apparently vacant container. The container flickers then glows to life, revealing an ominous scythe. Opening the protective casing and carefully lifting the weapon up by its leather grips, I let out a low whistle as the serrated blade end glistens in the light.

These are Hunger Games grade weapons . . . What is all this . . ., a trophy room? I study the sapphire gem on the blade end and attempt to make it glisten by tilting the blade.

I flinch as Emery's neutral expression appears on the stainless steel.

Startled, I drop the blade only for her to catch it. Before I could say a word, the muffled bellow of the reaping siren goes off. It's an ominous sound, upgraded from the more soothing steam whistles last year.

Emery stares at me, then Rose. "I think it's about time you guys leave."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mindelyn "Minnie" LaFontaine,<strong>_

"Come along Mars, _up up! _We've got a busy day ahead of us!"

I gather my tiny Pomeranian companion and slip him in my purse, smirking as I get a sharp bark in response. Little to people know that he's been on this earth for _eight _years! Thanks to all the growth stunting tonics available, he'll forever be cute and cuddly! Mars takes limited English classes along with his membership in the Kennel Club, he's indeed a pure breed, one of a kind!

Quickly, I rush down the steps of the train entrance onto the inner city streets of Panem's eleventh District. As per usual, the heat in this District is _unbearable. _In all my eight years of being assigned to District 11 I still can't get over it. Well, that's why I have my trusty parasol!

With an extra _oomph _in my hips I sashay to the car designated to ferry me towards the Justice Building, nodding to the chauffeur who ushers me inside. The short drive to the Hall of Justice is always an interesting one . . . from watching the somewhat aging infrastructure to the children themselves, who gawk as if they've never seen a car in their lives!

Poor, _poor _children . . .

I pop three tablets of zelapar (My happy tablets. _Nobody_ likes a Debbie downer!) into my mouth while flushing it all down with a glass of water, smiling to no one in particular . . . unless you count the uninvited eyes of the chauffeur.

I scoff, waving him off. "Eyes forward! I'd rather not get into an accident today.". He shrugs, parking behind the justice building.

"Thank you kind sir," I stuff a bank note into his breast pocket.

He offers me a bewildered look before I start off into the Justice building. The interior of the Justice Building happens to at least maintain its pleasant atmosphere. Velvet rugs . . . neat looking vases and extravagant panting schemes. I almost get lost in the patterns on the wall before bumping into Mayor Fleming, an older gentleman with greying hair and a slender build. I mutter my sheepish apologies before zipping towards my_ dear _Victors! First, starting Seeder then Persephone. She's a working woman of moderate age, seven or eight years older than I. So, she must be thirty eight by the least.

"Persephone, how are you darling!? I haven't heard a _peep_ from you all year!" I beam, giving her a one armed hug as she stiffly returns the gesture, but I don't care regardless.

Victor of the Fifty Fourth Hunger Games back to back with her twin brother who claimed the Fifty Third, didn't turn into a social recluse or morphling addict like a select few. In fact, she became an advocate for higher education, even managing to create a secondary school on par as those in the Capitol! Her actions are commendable, truly _commendable._

"I'm _peachy _Minnie." she spits, waving off a stylist who powders her face. "I don't need make up, dammit! Not like it'll make a difference anyway. . ."

"But of course it will!" I interject, "A little make up would help liven that _deathly _skin colour of yours.". I sheepishly smile off the deathly glare she launches my way. For someone who lives in a District such as 11, Persephone's extremely light complexion, blue eyes and snow white hair makes her stick out like a sore thumb.

"Says you." she hisses, only to scowl even more as I send a shrug her way. I'm quite pale myself, but I make it work anyway! Next, I approach little Emery (Not as little now!), who reluctantly complies with stylists as they powder her face. Its hard to picture this independent nineteen year old Victor as a once meek twelve year old girl. She's come a long way since then and as I said previously, she's among the only things anyone in the Capitol talks about nowadays.

"Emery, are you ready for your first year of mentoring!?"

We make way for Mayor Fleming and his wife, who slip past the glossed doors towards the stage. She turns my way, sending a meek smile in my direction as she takes my hand and gently grips it. Everything to her natural black curls and soft grey eyes tell me that her notion was genuine. We all stand, the five Victors and I, and begin to make our way towards the stage area. As we walk, I feel a hand caress my behind. I let out a low gasp, glaring at none other than Vincent who sends an arrogant wink my way as he takes his place in front of us. Emery didn't seem to take notice so I go on as if nothing had transpired.

"I s'pose so. I hope that it won't be as hard as I think it will but then again I'd be lyin' to myself." shes muses. I wouldn't blame her at all . . . As she's still a kid herself, a year shy off reaping age. Other than that, I feel something more than just first year jitters.

"How are the twins holding up?" I ask.

" . . . Is it that obvious." she frowns slightly. I give her a slight smile accompanied by a lopsided nod.

"They're fine, it's nice to see 'em grow up havin' everything they need," she sighs slightly. "I hope to continue to see _both _of them do exactly that."

"Surely they'll be fine . . ." I plaster a toothless smile across my lips, gripping her hands in reassurance.

The main doors open, and we take our seats on either side of the Mayor. Chaff, Vincent and I on take the right, Emery, Seeder and Persephone on the left all while he continues his speech.

"I thought you, a man of class would have a little more subtlety than to touch a woman _without_ their permission." I hiss through my teeth, glaring at the District's only other male Victor, Vincent L'amoreaux. He's a rather sleek man with neat hair as white as snow and soft blue eyes one could get lost in, not to mention his excellent choice of classy formal wardrobe . . . but it all ends there. He's cocky, gruff, uncouth and most of above all _intolerable._He unfortunately has knows all the right buttons to push and when to do so.

"Meh, I feed off of reactions." he grunts, inspecting my form. "Nice dress. They always seem to get more and more ridiculous as time goes by . . ."

His insults and very rarely, complements about my wardrobe always result in me reviewing them. My golden brown lopsided shoulder length curls supported by a white and red flower and matching choker is _perfection _in itself! My calve length white ball gown and ruby red heels alone would be perfect without the loose fitting red floral blazer I'm currently wearing.

Thankfully, I don't get a chance to retort as the Mayor introduces me to the crowd. Otherwise I would've made a fool out of the both of us.

Instead, only Vincent watches as my right hand slowly trails down my cheek, all fingers carefully disappearing until one remains . . .

"Good afternoon productive citizens of District Eleven!" I trill, happy to get a meek response from the more younger entrants. Other than that, the 50,000 people out of a population of 140,000 people that flood the square that seems to go on for miles, show less enthusiasm. Multiple widescreens have been set up for those who are father back from the stage.

"Welcome to the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games and the T_hird Quarter Quell. _What an honor it is to live through such a tremendous moment!" I take a quick breath in, "Before we begin, a message from our esteemed leader, President Snow!"

I clap lightly as the film that's indoctrinated to the population every single year is instilled yet again. As per old custom, I place my right hand over my heart and recite the treaty word for word. Once the film is completed, I smile as I step forward.

"Now then, the time has come to select our three _courageous_ tributes that will represent District Eleven in the Third Quarter Quell. The twist dictates, in respect for fallen Peacekeepers during the first rebellion, that_ three _tributes will be chosen between the ages of twelve to fifty years of age."

I gesture to the giant glass cauldrons on the other side of the stage.

"The first glass bowl is unisex, containing the slips of everyone standing here today. The second and third bowls are male and female respectively. With that being said, let's begin! Unisex first shall we!?"

Nothing but the sound of my six inch heels can be heard as I trot over towards the mixed bowl. I carefully dip my polished fingers into the bowl, caressing each and every slip before I push even deeper, smirking as I remove a single slip with a muffled _swoop._

All eyes seem to be on me as I trot back towards the microphone. Vincent, Emery and Persephone lean forward as I unravel the slip and read the name aloud for everyone to hear.

"Our first tribute of the day is . . . Miss Melody Oak!"

For a moment or two, silence envelopes the square as I let out an awkward yelp that substitutes for my version of a normal laugh. I'm about to call upon her name once more until the female group of twelve year olds part of a rather small girl.

She's rather pint sized and has a tanned complexion which probably means she's biracial . . . her strawberry blond curls are styled into two puffy pigtails supports my claim. Judging by her uniform she's an orphan, billed from one of the District's many Community Homes no doubt.

When I see her, I picture Emery those eight years ago.

I smile hesitantly, overhearing the soft groans of my mentors and the murmuring among the older audience.

We all know she has little to no chance . . . not in a Quell like this. If Emery could achieve victory, why can't she?

"What a cute looking young girl you are, _come come_!" I trill, maintaining my smile as she continues to stare in bewilderment with her mouth slightly agape. The Peacekeepers converge on her instantly, she puts up a futile fight as she's shoved forward into my hands. Holding her by the shoulders, I escort her to the front of the stage turning around towards the female bowl. I don't bother asking for volunteers.

Before I proceed, I glance at Emery who has seemed to have tensed up. Her eyes filled with worry, anxiety. I quickly turn the opposite direction, reapplying my smile.

"Now for the ladies . . ." taking a silent breath in, I take the first slip piled neatly on top of the others. Fighting back the sensation of my heart shooting upwards towards my throat, I trot back towards the microphone, and then unravel the slip.

"Our female tribute is . . . Rose Smithsonian!"

"NO!"

A cry of anguish shoots from the female side of the square. Her mother, Zinnia from what I remember, cries out in agony as the sixteen year olds part for Rose who looks towards the stage and her mother in shock. A two friends of Rose try to hold the sixteen year old girl back but to no avail as she moves from her section and with confidence, towards the stage beside Melody. Emery alongside Vincent and Persephone are in clear bewilderment, especially the latter who's cheeks are now drenched in tears. The crowd's murmurs rise significantly, only to quiet down as Peacekeepers get tense.

"Lastly, the boys."

Over Rose's mother's cries, I move towards the male bowl and slowly dip my hand in, retrieving a single slip.

My heart shoots into my throat as I sputter out "Springer Smithsonian!".

The cries of anguish grow into wails as the camera moves to the group of males aged thirty five. The men don't part for anybody, supposedly showing some form of solidarity towards their potential friend. Within seconds a rather tall, bulky man who I guess is Springer, father to Rose, politely moves through his fellow citizens and down the aisle.

"No! _Please_-"

Mrs. Smithsonian pushes past those in her row and shoots out onto the aisle and crashes into her husband, her rounded stomach that looks just as petite as she is, suggests that she is with child.

"You can't go - not the two of you! I don't know what I'd do without you!" she bawls.

Persephone tries to calm down a distraught Emery, keeping a firm hand on her chest. Rose on the other hand teeters as if she were about to swoon, only to lighten as the much younger Melody grips onto her wrist. Springer and Zinnia share a heated conversation, her body entwined against his, foreheads fused together as Springer's mouth constantly whispers sweet encouragement while his wife's head shakes in hysterics.

A touching moment indeed, I refrain from shedding any tears.

"No, get off me! Let me _go!"_

The Peacekeepers, looking to defuse the growing situation carefully pry the distraught woman off of her husband, lessening the chance of the baby being hurt. The crowd starts to stir even louder, only for silence to envelop the square once again as a boy rushes out into the middle of the aisle and lets out a single cry.

"I volunteer as tribute!" he shouts aloud, his stance frantic yet alert as his chest heaves up and down.

Mrs. Smithsonian droops to her knees as little girls, I assume are her children, sprint down to her side while Springer gazes towards the boy with a shocked expression. Emery overpowers Persephone and shoots up from her seat, glaring at the boy as she's brought back down again.

"Um-" I compose myself before speaking again. "- A _volunteer!_ I commend you on your strong will. It's been a while since Eleven has had someone volunteer! _Come!_Come forward!"

And he does, moving towards the stage just as Springer grabs the boy by the collar.

"Are you dumb or just plain stupid!?" I make out from the older man.

"- You have two little girls and a youngin' on the way to look after!" I barely catch from the boy. " . . . Let me go.".

As he finishes that sentence, Peacekeepers break the two young men apart and form a square around the boy, leading him up towards the stage. Just as I claim him he trades a lengthy glare with Emery. Even in heels I don't match the young mans height, his bulky build tells me he'll stand quite a chance come games time.

"What a strong young man you are! Who are you exactly?" I inquire.

"Sage," he states lowly, watching as Springer tends to his and Rose's family "Sage Smithsonian . . .".

The dark hair, grey eyes and almost identical features he shares with his father are evident.

"Two Smithsonians! Interesting . . . You guys _must _have victor blood flowing in your veins as well!"

He nods once, "I guess so.".

I smirk, pushing the three children forward. "Shake hands if you may!" and they do, Melody crosses her arms as the twins shake both hands. Rose pushes Melody aside and makes a beeline towards her brother, enveloping him in a hug that will surely make headlines. I strengthen my smile, turning back to the audience, who seem to murmur among themselves with discontent.

"Well then! District 11, your tributes in the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games! Melody Oak alongside Rose and Sage Smithsonian! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favour!"

As the murmurs gradually turn into shouts, I guide the two girls indoors with Sage by my side. While they're led up to individual rooms by Peacekeepers, I turn to find Emery being comforted by Persephone, her face threatening to overflow with grief.

I place a hand on her shoulder, receiving no response. "I'm _tremendously sorry, _Emery.".

"It was expected . . . I knew this day was gonna be catawumpus from the start." Emery frowns, shaking her head as she's lead away by the elder Victor. My eyes trail from the walls, to the children being led up, to Vincent who stands by my side.

He takes a deep breath in, "Those were some lucky guesses there Min, remind me never to betting games with you in the near future." he pats my back, walking towards the back exit.

I grab the nearest glass of water from a trolley, washing down four more pills. Regardless of downing four pills, I still can't help but frown and let out a low sigh.


	4. Three

_**Blood is Thicker than water **_

* * *

><p><em><strong>ACT II: Settle In! <strong>_

_**Three. **_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Rose. <strong>_

I'm in a state of complete shock, trudging up a stairwell as a Peacekeeper drags me along. As we complete a flight of stairs, the twelve year old girl is taken through the right corridor while Sage and I are taken left. My brother tries to establish conversation with me, but to no avail as all I see is his moving lips.

No noise whatsoever . . .

As we're marched towards a door at the end of the hallway, I cant help but wonder why _me_?

I'm pushed forward into a meeting room used by the Mayor and other officials. They don't dare try the same thing with Sage, who gives them a hardened gaze.

"You have half an hour visitation time." snaps the Peacekeeper as he shuts the door behind him.

I find my way towards a couch, curling into a ball as Sage lets out a sigh, moving towards the windows with his hands placed firmly on his hips.

"Look at them," he talks of the men, women and children safe for another year. ". . . all safe and sound." he mumbles.

I glare his way, "You're the one who volunteered."

He turns around towards me. I can't tell by the way he looks at me if he's upset or saddened. I think he was fixing to reply only for Pop to barge through the doors, making a beeline for Sage. I immediately rise to me feet as Pop takes Sage by the collar and shoves him towards a wall.

"Why did you volunteer, are you _crazy_!?" he barks, breaking out into tears. "_Answer_ me!"

"I did it for your own good!" Sage yells back, his facial expression queasy from the constant shaking Pop subjects him to.

"Dad, let Sage go please!" I mew uneasily, as Mama and I latch onto his hands in an attempt to let the bewildered Sage free. Pop pauses, then drops to the floor as dry heaves take over his body. Instantaneously, I'm right beside him, nuzzling against him with my hand gently patting his back.

"Y'all need to be strong . . . You hear me!?" I glance towards Mama and Pop. "You can't shut down if something happens to us."

They send brief glances towards one another but eventually nod in understanding.

"I thought this foolishness would be far behind us now . . ." says Mama wiping a stray tear away from her eye. I don't blame her one bit. Emery's victory lulled us into a false state of security. It's not like reaped relatives of Victor's are uncommon.

"I don't think I have tokens for y'all either." she mumbles lowly. Sage musters a weak smile before pulling Mama into a hug.

"Emery's popular . . . I'm sure they'll give us something." he soothes. Her lips start to tremble as she motions me towards her. As soon as my body makes contact with hers, she begins to wail uncontrollably. Pop remains on the floor, eyes fixated on the window in front of him. Hearing Mama's unnatural display of anguish, I can't help but let the tears that well up at my eyes free.

"It's okay Mama," I kiss her cheek, "We'll come back to you.". I frown at how hopeless and unlikeliness of one let alone two of us making it back home.

She gazes into my eyes, the type of gaze that makes you uneasy and disgruntled on the inside, then lets out a low scoff.

"God willin' and the creek don't rise . . ."

Before I get a chance to respond, the Peacekeeper is back at the door requesting our parents leave.

Mama quickly sends a soothing kiss to Sage and I's foreheads, "Ya'll try your hardest y'hear!?" her voice cracks as she pulls us in for one more bone crushing hug. The Peacekeeper courteously grabs Mama by the wrists as Pop repeats her motion, a kiss for me and a pat on the shoulder for Sage.

"I love you both.".

Pepper and Clementine stand near the door, obviously confused and traumatized by the events taking place in front of them. Magnolia rushes in as soon as the door closes.

"Oh my lord, I'm _so sorry!" _She instantly scoops both of us into a tight embrace.

"I knew the chances were high but didn't think anything of it . . ." she shakes her head and wipes the tears off her cheeks. She smiles weakly, taking us both in as if we were her very own pride and joy. Her eyes are soothing as she held a single hand from both of us and caressed them slowly.

"Y'all remember what Mama always said about you two . . . If y'all were put into the Hunger Games together, you could lick the competition?"

We both glance at each other and nod as she smiles weakly.

"If they adore Emery, they'll adore y'all just as much as a bear loves honey," she closes the space between us and gives us one last bone crushing hug, "I love you two so much . . . be bold, be courageous just like Emery was and I don't see how you two won't prosper.".

"Thank you, Magnolia."

She stands aside, watching as Clemmy and Pepper sprint towards us. Clementine latches against my waist and Pepper, Sage's.

"You can't go Rose!" Pepper cries,

"They're picking older people now!" whimpers Clementine, crying into my midsection. I pat down her natural curls, kneeling down to their levels.

"_Shh_ . . . It's alright guys," I coo, desperately trying to keep my voice in check.

"Rose and I are smart, we'll be fine and dandy, we promise." Sage rescues me, gripping my shoulder.

" . . . A-And you're big and strong!" mews Pepper, who glances at me "Rose is smart too!"

"Mhm, you got that right Pep. We can both do it." Sage confirms, smiling slightly.

Clementine frowns, refraining from maintaining eye contact. " . . . Only one person comes out though, remember?"

I frown, glancing at Sage who follows my notion before staring back at Clemmy again. She's too smart for her own being. I'm about to offer an answer as a Peacekeeper barges in. They gasp, clutching us as I send a quick kiss towards both their foreheads. "We love you both!" I sputter, watching as my three sisters get escorted out with a faint slam of the door.

The rest of the visitation blows by quick. Almost all our classmates from school flood the meeting room just to say a goodbye or two, including Savannah and Malini who tear uncontrollably at the two of us. A part of me is thankful they took the time to say their goodbyes while the other wonders why they haven't pushed us out of memory like every other unfortunate kid. Lily and Julian, long time friends of Emery and Magnolia, also paid a visit to us. Lastly, some of our teachers paid us a visit.

"Alright you guys, visitations over." grumbles the Peacekeeper and as soon as we know it, we're being marched through corridors again. When I look at the little orphan, Melody her name is, and how upset her face looks I can't help but feel sorry her and wonder if anyone came looking for her at all . . .

"Well, those reapings were _bound_ to gain you much needed popularity, _not _that you needed it anyway! You guys are in for quite the treat I promise you! I can't _wait _for the popularity polls to come out!" our jovial Capitol Escort trills as our limousine proceeds down the road towards the nearest station.

I don't even hear half the words that flutter out of her mouth but instead, gaze out the window in a stupor. Wondering what lies ahead.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Sage.<em>**

We leave the fancy car, only to be engulfed in the flashes of cameras. Peacekeepers line the way forward, keeping the crowds of onlookers at bay. Myself just recovering from being repeatedly shook by my father, the loud atmosphere of curious onlookers and nosy Capitol press makes my mind boggle with stress.

The three of us gaze towards rather large looking train that seems to loom over us like a dark cloud. It's a double decker, two floors. They must've changed up the train model this year.

"Looks comfortable," I murmur.

"If it looks so good on the outside, I wonder what the inside must be like." Rose barely whispers. I cast a wry glance at our twelve year old District partner, not a word from her yet . . . Her afro puffs are bigger than her head. With her sparkling hazel eyes and cute features, she might earn a sponsor or two if she's lucky enough.

"Come along children, there's much more to see on the inside!" gushes our Escort.

We exchange glances and enter after her. We start from the engine of the train, working our way from car to car. This train houses a Peacekeeper detachment and a full kitchen among other things. We skip the Victor's car for some reason. Having Emery with us would calm my nerves. Unfortunately, she's nowhere to be seen.

"And here we have the common room!" she shuffles out of our view, smiling at our bewildered reactions.

The room itself I think was fashioned to appear "_homey_", comforting to those who were chosen. The sofas were made of brown wood and blue cushioning. The floor below us follows after this colour trend. There were tables adorned with foods of all shapes and sizes, most notably baked goods and fruit, catering to our District with an obvious Capitol touch to it all. The breads, the turnovers and the fruit make my mouth overflow with saliva.

Somehow, my pain and worry about being shipped on my way to fight thirty odd others in a fight to the death simmers.

I cast a glance at Rose, only to get the same bewildered look reflected my way. The food in this train is ten times better than any food you can get outside of it. Rose and I were pretty well off, but _this _makes me feel like any other common you'd find in Eleven.

"I know, I know! It still takes getting used to myself . . ." our host chimes, "Go on! Take anything you want, we have tons more."

She doesn't need to tell us twice. We quickly spread apart, surveying the car as we sample each and every dish that tickles our interest. Each dish comes with a neat little card, telling us about its origins and possible ingredients. I end up settling on two "Nanaimo bars", a cold, fudge like snack with a brownie like bottom, pure chocolate top and a yellow icing in the middle. I finish my snack with some plain grapes.

With our plates in hand, we listen on as our Escort guides us through our living quarters and into what appears to be an observation room. We sit down only for our heads to look towards the ceiling as a three tone chime resonates throughout the train. I turn towards the window, only to frown as the train left the station and is now halfway past the ten foot wall that surrounds our District . . . seemingly in seconds.

"The Bombardier T15 is ten times better than the T5! Currently we are traveling at _350 miles per hour_! Better than 200 miles per hour on the T5 model." our Escort sighs. She sits down, cupping her hands and swinging her left foot over her right. She lets out an awkward yelp as her dog pokes its head out of her purse.

Our Escort, Minnie, is a mystery to me. I think she's a descendant of a former President I learned about in history class. Overzealous and too upbeat for her own good, everything from her awkward yelp to the way her blue eyes change shades make me raise an eyebrow. I wonder how Emery must've felt about her during her time as a tribute during '67.

"What's up with your eyeballs?" I say aloud, leaning in to get a better glimpse.

She perks up, seemingly happy to have been asked. "I had an optical implant!" she chimes brightly.

"An optical what'now?" grunts Rose.

"An _optical implant!_" she croons, placing her hands on her hips she begins to pace, "I had sapphire contacts fused to my irises, acting as a mood ring! For example, light blue for happy, dark blue for angry!"

We both nod confusingly. The concept of her eye surgery is kind of weird but interesting at the same time. She doesn't seem to overdo it like most Capitol people I see on television, but still manages to look dazzled in her own right.

She takes a seat down on the far side of us, crossing her left leg over the right one while cupping her ghostly white hands. She lets out an excited yelp as her dog seemingly explodes out of her purse, racing over to us and barking all the while. The pint sized dog takes a liking to the twelve year old, which at first seemed hesitant to touch it let alone let it sit on her.

"I see he likes you! His name's Mars by the way." Minnie softly chirps, to which our younger District partner barely lets off a smile. A moment of silence envelopes the room as Minnie lets out a sigh.

"We have so much to go over together . . . We'll wait until dinner which is at seven sharp! I'll see if I can find one of our mentors to touch base with you three..." she gets up and sashays towards the door.

After a minute or two, she returns with Vincent L'amoreaux in hand. He wears a neat dress shirt and blue slacks, with a fancy glass containing a clear liquid and an olive in one hand. His cold blue eyes scan us then flick to Minnie as she shoves him forward. He's careful to keep his drink stable.

"Here is one of your mentors! Vincent!" she smiles, her hands linked with his right arm. He sends a glare her way as she sits him down. As she turns to leave, we look on with confused expressions as our mentor pats Minnie on the bottom, prompting her to let out a surprised yelp. We exchange glances but say nothing . . . its better if we didn't.

He sets his eyes on me and Rose specifically.

"Rose and Sage eh? Your reaping could be a blessing depending on how things go." out of pity, I glance at the little girl who shifts her eyes to the window.

"A blessing, how is any of _this _a _blessing_!?" Rose spits, her hands shooting into the air confusingly. " . . . More like a _bad omen_.".

Vincent scoffs, sipping his drink. "Well, you are Smithsonian's _right_?"

". . . Yes?"

"So, then our dear friends in the Capitol will go gaga over _two_." he continues to gesture with his hands, "Emery is one thing already, but siblings of her . . ." he drawls on.

"I still don't get it." she deadpans.

"He means," I lean in, "Since Emery is the next best thing since sliced bread, and we will be too, being siblings and all."

"Exactamundo!" he exclaims as he points to me. "I like you slick, we should do business."

Slick? It's probably a nickname. I smirk his way as he reflects my notion with a wink.

"Where's Emery?" I inquire, "I'm surprised she's not down here with us."

"In her quarters," Vince shrugs with another sip. "I tried getting her out, but you know, with you guys being reaped and whatnot. It's her first year of mentoring also, I wonder how she'll function."

"Why? She's been around for eight years now, roughly." inquires Rose,

"And why would she tag along with you every year if she wasn't?" I add on.

"One," he points to Rose, "We have four others experienced enough to do so anyway. Because of this twist, Emery volunteered to tag along. Otherwise, In the event that a smaller tribute between twelve to fourteen is chosen, which they haven't in eight years, Emery would mentor said child simply because she's been in their shoes."

He turns towards me,

"And two," he sharpens his gaze towards me, possibly coming up with words say. " . . . Emery's popular among them, the _toast _of the Capitol. She attends parties, etcetera etcetera!" he finishes his drink, setting it on the table as he begins to leave.

"Where do you think you're going!?" Rose snaps, "We have prepping to do."

Vincent turns around, a goofy smirk spread across his lips. "Back to my area of the train . . . that martini was but only a teaser. We begin tomorrow!" he glances my way, "Later slick!" then to Rose and our partner, "Rose . . . kid."

Rose sucks her teeth in disdain. "I'll have better luck with Ms. Persephone more. He's more your speed."

I shrug, turning towards our mute district partner. Her silence irks me. it's unlike girls her age to be so quiet, but given the situation . . .

"Hey you," I snap my fingers as she turns my way, glaring at me. "How come you don't speak?"

"Sage!" Rose snaps, prompting me to raise my hands in the air defensively. "What?" I jab back. She pays me no mind and extends her hand for Melody to take. "I'm Rose. This idiot here is Sage.".

Melody accepts the hand shake, smiling all the while. She moves from the sofa, maintaining eye contact with me as she slips through the doors. Rose sends daggers at me while I childishly return the notion.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Rose.<strong>_

I sigh, smiling as the water from this high tech Capitol shower pelts me just the right way.

It took me a while just to figure out how to make the water run, there's too much gosh darn buttons to choose from. I eventually settle on rose scented water set on warm. This beats the lukewarm water available to us back in 11. As the water stops, my body is blown dry by the dryer doohickey built into the side of the wall. My kinky bush like curls, silkier and darker due to the water, is relatively dry as I slip on a silk robe and trot out into my room.

My temporary room is quite the sight in itself. I have my own vanity dresser, a few cabinets and a moderately sized bed. Alongside a window, outside it a orange late spring skyline that signals dusk is rapidly approaching. It's all breathtaking. It makes me wonder what the Capitol possibly holds.

I shimmy out of my robe, slip on undergarments and get to work on putting together something to wear. Another perk to being "randomly" selected to fight to the death is the abundance of clothing to choose from. Clothing such as dresses, slacks, sweaters, shirts and billions of other assortments. I settle on a red tube dress with a skinny gold belt, some lipstick and a gold necklace supported by gold bangles.

"_Children, __please make your way down to the common room for dinner!" _Minnie's voice chimes over the PA system.

I make my way down the stairs to the brightly lit hallway leading to the common room. The smell of hot food makes my stomach growl in anticipation of a good meal. Once I open the door, the smell hits me full force, forcing my eyes to dart around for the source.

The common room was reorganized to a dining room setting, the center table, much larger and a separate table housed a wide assortment of foods to choose from. Foods that I can't seem to put a name on, luckily they have tiny cards for that specific reason. Melody and Sage are already seated. Melody sends a small smile my way to which I return.

"_Ooooh_ look at you! You look so perfect!" cheers Minnie, "I'm glad I have tributes who clean up well. _Come!_ There's a wide variety of food to choose from."

She guides me from the entrance to the table where all the food is situated. There's pasta, seafood, chicken breasts, steak, potatoes made into boiled balls . . . it was all so perfect, but what _really _caught my mind was the chicken bits drenched with orange sauce. It seems Minnie caught me starting too long as she comes to my side.

"Sweet and sour chicken, my _favourite!"_she squeals.

"It's about to become _mine_ too." I take a plate of this mystery chicken, along side a small bowl of freshly made salad and mixed vegetables. I dig in instantly, letting out a low mew at the explosion of flavour that comes with each chew. Minnie seems to be in a deep one sided conversation with Melody on the other side of the table, most likely out of pity of the young orphan.

"I can't _wait _until you three see the Capitol and all its charms!" she coos, checking the grand clock on the far side of the room before turning on a holomonitor.

"The reapings are about to begin!" she cheers, her eyes flushing a light-ish blue. "It is of the _utmost _importance you three watch who you're up against, especially with a twist like this year's."

And we listen, all our heads twisted to the west side of the room as we watch the seal of District 1 shimmer into view. The Escort, Ritchie LaFontaine, brother to the obvious, struts on stage wearing a white double breasted suit with floral patterns strewn across it. As expected, security is tight in One as people poise to sprint towards the stage. With three spots up for grabs, it would be odd if drama didn't happen today. In the Career Districts, people who lost their chance at supposed glory can retain it again. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"On your marks . . ." flutters Ritchie,

"Get set . . ."

". . . GO!"

My face scrounges in disbelief as a handful of people, young and old sprint to the stage. Ritchie squeals, cowering behind a not so receptive Peacekeeper as a brawl erupts on stage. Multiple people get shoved off until three remain. A nineteen year old girl with a tanned complexion and brunette hair, alongside a eighteen year old boy and a thirty year old female stand triumphantly in front of their District.

Sage laughs a little. "That was something . . .",

"Did you see anyone you noticed?" inquires Minnie,

"The nineteen year old," Sage nods, "She seems like your typical, hard ass Career bent on killin' just 'cause.".

And I don't blame him for thinking that way. The nineteen year old strikes me different. The way she lunged forward and fought off the others, the way she stands on stage so cocky and victorious. I'll be sure to keep my distance.

"Oh dear . . ." squeaks Minnie.

We turn towards her direction. "'Oh dear' what?" I inquire.

"That girl there is Sapphire Phoenix, daughter to Luxor who happens to be a Victor as well!"

"And?,"

"_And _her sister fought against Emery during her games in which Emery killed her! Imagine if she sees you two wandering about!?" she squeals, her eyes flash an unnatural blue and green mixture.

Sage scoffs, "Let her hold her petty grudge, I don't care regardless." Minnie frowns slightly as I give her a shrug, I'll still keep my distance, unless she tries something beforehand.

District 2 was set up the same way One was, the Escort reads off the names and they lunge forward. Surprisingly, a thirteen year old girl makes it through the pack. She's below average height, freckles clash with pale skin, brunette hair in pigtails. Given by anyone's first impression of her, it'd be negative, but there's something more to that girl than meets the eye. Most likely that cocky glint in her eye. She's most likely a wildcard. The second spot is locked in by a twenty year old boy, great shape, impressively built.

The third man thrashes everyone out of his way, man or woman. He casually takes his place on stage, smiling pridefully into the cameras. He's middle aged, the second adult to be reaped. The silver hair . . . that single, cold blue eye . . . the eyepatch . . .

". . . Is that, Commander Ponder?" I squint my eyes towards the screen. It can't be . . .

"I believe so." says Sage, "Remind me to stay_ clear_ out of his way." he shudders, leaning back into his chair a tad. Commander Ponder, former HeadPeacekeeper to 11. He's sure to command a lot of attention once things finally kick off. Everyone will love a Peacekeeper, a Peacekeeper Commander at that, just as much as they do a Victor's relative.

District 3 isn't as note worthy as 1 and 2, more so of a stopover from the Career Districts. A forty six year old male is chosen, alongside a twenty five year old female and another thirty five year old one. It's a good mix than I thought previous, with children in reaping age still finding their way on stage.

District 4 was the most lax out of the Career Districts. The Escort simply read a name, waited for the chosen to set foot on stage and asked for a volunteer. The first spot goes to a fifteen year old female, the closest one to the stage. She's pretty I'll give her that. The brunette hair that cascades down to her bottom, the light brown eyes, tanned skin and impressive figure. The third and second spots go to a forty year old woman and a seventeen year old male.

"It makes me wonder how they'll set up their alliance." I wonder aloud.

"Most likely the adults, then the younger ones in separate packs," Minnie proposes.

District 5 is the same as District 3, nothing out of the ordinary. a twenty two year old male is called alongside a thirty nine year old woman. The last girl who's called tickles my interest, a sixteen year old by the looks of it. She has messy orange curls, creamy skin and freckles, alongside emerald coloured eyes. Overall, she's very beautiful. The way she twitches and yelps out random things as she approaches the stage gives off a weird vibe to her. On top of that weird vibe is a haphazardness I can't put my finger on.

. . . I think I'll call her Fritz, specifically for that reason.

The rest of the District's zoom on by, the age range differentiating between mid teens to late forties the highest. It hurts to watch fathers and mothers being raked away from their families to possibly never see them again. A prime example of this is two of District 9's male and female tributes, which happen to be father and daughter.

"You guys are on!" Minnie says, her upbeat vigour faltering. All three of us refrain from watching the screen. I wince as Mama's screams are as fresh as they were a couple hours ago.

Once District 12 rolls by, in which all tributes are middle aged, Minnie switches the holomonitor off. Just as the popularity polls were rolling out.

"Hey!" I snap, "I wanted to see that."

"Popularity polls are solely based on opinion, no need to lull you into a false sense of security. Being a relative to Emery, you already know people are expecting big things!" she trills.

She was right. Like Vincent had stated, two Smithsonian's were better than one.

"What about Melody?" I say, nodding my head towards our apparently mute District partner. Out of everyone reaped, she was the youngest. With a large pool of capable teenagers and adults, the odds aren't looking so great for our quiet friend. As if her odds were good anyway . . .

Minnie frowns slightly. "She _is _the youngest reaped . . . I wont sugar coat," she turns towards Melody, "But the odds aren't looking good for you sweetie."

Melody ponders over this statement, then her hazel flecks blink once as she shrugs. The two puffs on either side of her hair move while she does this.

To quell the awkward tension, Minnie clears her throat. "Well, anyone worth thinking about?" she inquires, flashing her pearly white teeth that seems to go hand and hand with her already ghostly white skin.

"Ponder . . ." murmurs Sage, "Him and that Sapphire bitch will a thorn in our backsides."

"_Language_, Sage!" Minnie flutters, stroking Mars who resides on her lap.

"It's true," I pipe up, stuffing a piece of chicken into my mouth. "As soon as Sapphire or whatever her name is sees our recap, she'll be out for blood. The Careers, the older ones, are probably academy teachers for all we know. The middle aged adults from the outside Districts could also pose a threat.".

After a brief moment she lets out a small sigh, nodding her head in supposed agreement.

"I suppose those two will pose a problem, alongside the majority of the adult tributes that were selected. We have lot's to go over tomorrow," she lets out a petite yawn, carefully stuffing a sleeping Mars into her purse.

"Good night, children. I'll see you bright and early." she sends a thin smile our way before leaving.

"Now what?" I turn Sage's way.

He smirks, "I was pokin' 'round here earlier 'n found _these," _he flaunts a tiny microchip across my eyes. I grab his fist, peeling the tiny object out of his hand and examining it further. The microchip sports the nations seal, alongside a "67" below it.

_Emery's Hunger Games._

_"No_ . . . No no no! We _can't_ watch her Games behind her back!" I retract my hand as Sage swipes for the microchip, "That'd be a betray of her trust, she'll tell us about them when she's rea-" that last part of the sentence retracts itself back into my mouth like mechanical measuring tape.

Sage notices this, smirking all the while. "Our clocks are tickin', rather you like it o' not. Mise' well." I pause for a moment, letting out a scoff and a roll of my eyes.

"Whatever."

He smiles in triumph. "Meet me in my room after you've changed."


	5. Five

_**A/N: The fourth chapter was skipped ( I kinda deleted it by accident and I CBA to rewrite it. It basically gives us a recap on Emery's games, nothing too serious. **_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Five<strong>_

* * *

><p>"Up and at 'em! We have a long road ahead of us today!" Minnie prattles as she gently raps against my door.<p>

I groan, swinging my feet over the side of my bed. I glance out the window, expecting to see the orchards and open fields that our District is so widely acclaimed for. Instead, I see greenery, nothing but greenery that goes on for miles on end. It's only then that I realize the fact that I'm stuck on a train headed for the Capitol and that the possibility of me ever seeing an orchard in the coming days are few and far between. I quickly zip to the washroom, freshening up before I change into a plain white dress shirt and black slacks before making my way towards the common room.

The common room is calm and relaxed, just how I like my mornings . . . well, as rare as those mornings came. As much as I love them to death, it's a welcomed difference without Clementine and Pepper running around. The way they squeal and play-fight causes a whole heap of trouble sometimes.

Minnie lounges around on a nearby chair, dressed in a red mini dress, puffed skirt and gold trimmings. Again, the floral print design must be another Capitol fad as Minnie seems to sporting them on this outfit as well. While she reads away at a magazine with her prized lap dog by her side, Principal L'Amoreaux and Vincent are sitting at the main table. They glance upwards from their plates as I join them.

"Hey there, Sage." says my Principal as she glances up from her coffee and offers me a thin smile.

I smile back. "Morning, Ms. L'Amoreau-"

"Cut the formalities Sage. You can call me Persephone now." She cuts me off, smirking as she waves her hand nonchalantly in dismissal.

"Alright, Persephone._" _I return her smirk, easing backward as a plate of pancakes is presented to me by an Avox. I can't help but formalize myself in front of my Principal. I'll still never get used to the fact that she's a Victor on top of an acclaimed educator. Personally I find it to be an odd, yet justified, mixture.

"I'm tremendously sorry for what happened with you and Rose. I assure you we got everything worked out in terms of public relations." she soothes.

I shrug, "No point in saying sorry, it's already over and done with. I already know I'm a crowd favourite and I have an idea about what to do come games time, at least I think I do anyhow. . ."

Vincent scoffs. "Do you now, Slick? You may look the part, but you don't know a single thing about the arena."

I raise my eyebrow, smirking all the while. "I'm sure I do, it's a pretty straightforward concept. Kill_ everyone_ that gets in your path. Survive at all costs, so on and so forth." I make a repeating motion with my hands.

"You say that when a forty year-old man with a spear charges your way." reprimands Vincent.

"He'd be no different from an eighteen year old . . . I'm positive I could take any of the males this year." I retort.

He guffaws all the while, causing my eyes to squint and my head to contract backwards as his fist collides with the polished oak in front of us. While Persephone frowns in disdain, I catch Minnie rolling her eyes behind the magazine that partially covers her face.

"I love his spirit, I really do." he sighs, jabbing his twin sister with his elbow as she brushes him off. His eyes narrow towards the doorway as he throws his hands into the air.

"There's our two sleeping beauties! Come join us, we were just talking strategy." his voice seeps with fake glee.

Our heads crane towards Rose and Melody's way. Rose takes her place one chair to the left of me and Melody takes a seat at the head of the table. Both look irritated, still groggy from sleep.

"This feels like school all over again," says Rose as she accepts Persephone's hand with a tired smile.

"Trust me, there'll be a lot of schooling going on within the next couple of days." our Principal winks.

She turns to Melody, "Good morning, Melody. It's nice to finally meet you!". Melody smiles faintly, nodding at the Avox that presents her with a plate of food. She looks up from her plate to see that all eyes are focused solely on her. She returns our notion with a blink, then goes back to work on her plate.

"Kid's not much of a talker I take it . . ." Vincent purses his lips, eyeing the girl as he downs a mug of coffee.

"All she knows is how to blink, shrug or smile a little." I roll my eyes. She takes a long sip of apple juice out of her cup, sending me a gaze all the while. I can't tell if it's out of disliking of me or just a regular glance. In fact, I can't read her at all . . .

"She's gonna need to break out of that shell of hers if she expects to get anywhere," he muses coolly, "but with her being the youngest of the bunch this year, it's not like it'll make a difference.".

He lets out a muffled grunt, bending forward as he clutches his stomach. He scoffs, glaring at Persephone who only smiles warmly at Melody.

"Don't pay any mind to him, Melody. Emery, your mentor, has been in your shoes before. You'll be fine.".

Instead of her running out the room, fleeing and leaving nothing but a trail of tears, Melody lets out a silent scoff, topping it off with a miniature shrug. The fact that _our _sister isn't going to be directly supporting us but her instead irks me on the inside.

"Where _is _Emery by the way?" asks Rose.

"Probably still sleeping, she'll join us when she's ready." Vincent clasps his hands while letting out a short breath, turning my way.

"So, about that 'kill everyone who gets in my path' jazz . . . you really think it's that easy, do you?".

"Should be." I shrug.

"And how would you go about it?" he inquires, nodding at the Avox who refills his mug.

"Grab a weapon at the cornucop-" I frown as he cuts me off with a stern wave of his hands.

"It's _always _about the cornucopia with these kids . . ." he huffs, pausing while sipping his coffee. "What _if _you were public enemy number one entering the arena, and the cornucopia couldn't be an option due to the risk being too great?"

Hmm, I haven't really took that into account when considering whether I'd be a target once the games start. Of course there were Career tributes, but everyone else would be too occupied saving their own skins.

I shrug. "I'm not too sur-"

"_Sponsors." _he presses, pointing his dagger-like finger towards my heart. "Sure, you got the body for it, but your survival isn't guaranteed if you go in. If you're weaponless and the public likes you? They'll sponsor you a sword. If your clothes are damp and you're freezing your ass off in the cold? They'll sponsor you new clothes or a blanket. Sponsors make this world go 'round, Slick." he nods, signaling the end of his brief criticism.

"This doesn't just go for you, Sage. " At this, he turns and points at Rose and Melody. "The way all of you go about presenting yourselves this week will go a long way."

I shrug. "I'm related to _Panem's Sweetheart_, I'm sure they'll receive Rose and I the same way they do Emery."

"Sure you're related to me."

Everyone turns to see Emery casually saunter in and take her spot beside Melody. Wearing a red romper, her skin seems to glow as she settles in and fixates her eyes on me. Her ruby red lips and her black eyeshadow are a frighteningly compatible blend of mysterious and unique.

"But with a Victor's child hellbent on killing ya'll and a Peacekeeper Commander thrown into the mix among other able bodied adults, you're gonna have to fight for them sponsors."

"Isn't that why we're here? To fight? I'm willing to do anything." I send a wry smile her way, copying her purr.

She returns my notion. "Good. As long as you know that you ain't invincible and that most probably, people _will be_ gunnin' for you once that gong goes off."

Rose raises her head over Persephone's as if she were trying to get a better glimpse of something. She bolts out of her chair, rushing to the nearest window as Melody joins suit. "Well I'll be damned . . ." she murmurs, accompanied by a low whistle from Melody. I join her, my mouth partially agape as the city that's built up upon every District kid's wildest dreams slowly comes into view.

The _Capitol. _Looking at it with my own two eyes is so much better than watching it on television. Everything from the skyscrapers that loom in the distance to the clear blue lake makes me wonder why home can't be as great as this.

"Welcome to the Capitol, children!" trills Minnie, "I just love watching their reactions every year, it never gets old!". I frown once the skyline gets cut off by the tunnel we enter. Not even five minutes have passed and we've already seemed to have entered a train station.

"Woah." I murmur as I step backwards, shocked at the vibrant colours the Capitolites seem to wear. I was right about the floral patterns being the bees knees as I see the majority of the onlookers are bedazzled with some sort of floral garment or accessory.

I turn towards Minnie. "How come you don't overdo it like they do?". She shrugs, a modest smile plastered on her face.

"I don't like to overindulge!"

Melody slowly begins to wave, a thin lipped smile spread across her face as the crowd points towards her. Vincent sees this and nods sternly. "Good, I see the kids been taking notes." grunts Vincent, gesturing towards us. We too, begin to wave towards ecstatic Capitol citizens as cameras flash our way and the shrieks get higher.

Rose let out a soft groan behind a wide smile. "Is this really happening right now? Are we _really _in the Capitol to fight for our lives against thirty odd other people?"

"Yessir." answers Vincent.

She lets out a low, worrisome breath, "I can't believe this is actually happening . . ."

"Well believe it, sweetie." he sighs, plastering a fake smile over his lips. "Settle in! Because it isn't going to get any better anytime soon, I'm sorry to say."

We turn back to the crowd, smiling all the while. Then, and only then, does my cocky persona drop at his words.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Rose<em>**

After being told to switch into more professional clothing, we're taken by formally dressed Peacekeepers to the train entrance. Minnie takes over from our mentors, taking her spot behind us.

"Stay calm children, us Capitolites are known for being a little . . . hyper." she soothes placing her hands on Sage and I's shoulders as the door is opened.

Hyper is an understatement. As much as I'm dying to do so, I refrain from covering my ears over the sheer screams of excitement filling the air as we leave the train and proceed to leave the station.

"Hey Rose! How does it feel to be in the Capitol?" chimes a reporter.

I smile his way. "It's a great experience . . . I wish home could look as good as here does."

"Smithsonian twins! How are you feeling about your odds in the Games?"

Sage answers this one. "Our odds haven't been better. We're Smithsonian's after all, victory runs in the family." He sends a a confident, yet modest smile towards the cameras and as expected they eat it up.

I wanna send a glare his way, but who could blame him for playing up the crowd. He puts my arm around my shoulder while Melody timidly follows suit, meekly waving to those who take the time to acknowledge her. A part of me pangs out in sorrow for the little girl and her chances. Obviously, we aren't helping with all the attention solely focused on us two.

The limousine that waits for us is much longer than the car we had in 11, and is undoubtedly much more luxurious. It's coloured black, has polarized windows and is lined with silver. The inside was another affair. The seats lined with creamy leather and its very own assortment of sweets and beverages to partake in.

Minnie giggles to herself, her eyes glimmering a dull blue. "That reminded me of when your sister was a tribute! You three did _so_ well!"

Sage and I mumble our thanks, too busy to pay ample attention as we fixate our eyes on the scenery. The bridges are so neatly built and the water that flows below them so clear. The houses are so giant and majestic that it's like the Victor's Village times a hundred. Minnie goes on to say that one of those houses belong to her. If only we had the time to see the inside of it.

"As you can see children, the government is pulling no stops this year." She gestures towards the giant, gold and red banners that fly across every available lamppost and building in sight.

"It's very_ very _important you conduct yourselves accordingly. This isn't your simple twenty-four teenagers going at it, you're dealing with a mixed pool! There'll be a lot of sob stories among other things that may or may not draw away from you. It's _pivotal _you choose your steps wisely, understood?"

"That dog'll hunt." I say, nodding. Minnie puckers her lips confusingly and turns towards Sage and Melody, who laugh at her reaction.

"It means that's a good plan." smirks Sage.

Minnie appears bemused at this, smiling as we continue to snicker at her obliviousness. "Well then! In all my years as Escort I haven't heard that one before.".

We pull up towards a curb teeming with ecstatic Capitolites and their reporters alike. A long, gold and velvet rug guides us from our limo to the entrance. The only thing protecting us from jovial onlookers are the velvet ropes and Peacekeepers that sparsely line the way forward. As we get out, I look upwards to find a giant skyscraper with five giant pillars looming in the near Distance.

"Welcome to the Training Center, children!" cheers Minnie. Sage shields his eyes from the Sun as he attempts to get a better glimpse of the building as a whole.

"Did you guys change something this time around?" he asks.

Minnie nods. "We've undergone swift renovations which includes improved living spaces, a larger balcony and and three extra towers, just to name a few." She waves us forward, smiling at the jubilant crowd.

"Come! The chariot rides start within the next two hours!"

"Why so early? I thought it was a night time event." I ask.

Minnie shrugs. "By the time things start rolling the sun will be setting! Capitol sunsets are so _sublime! _You have to see for yourselves!"

"Rose! Oh _oh oh_, Rose!"

I turn to my right to see a girl of about eight years old bob up and town, desperately trying to flag me down for attention. She wears a gossamer dress with a giant daisy in the middle along with other yellow accessories. I smile towards her parents, dressed identically to their daughter who return the notion.

"Hi Rose, you're so pretty! Can I have your autograph?!" She haphazardly waves a booklet in my face.

"Sure thing, um . . ."

"Petunia!" she beams, her smile as wide as the sun.

"Sure Petunia, anything for an admirer!" I send a modest smile her way.

'_To Petunia;_ _Keep on shining! You have a wonderful smile. _

_-Rose Smithsonian'_

She squeals with glee as she finishes reading. "Yay! I got it! I got it!" she exclaims, hoping and down. Her father, a chiseled man in love with any garment of clothing that's yellow as per his suit and tie made out of roses and hair, extends his hand for me to shake.

"Thank you, Ms. Smithsonian. We'll be keeping an eye on you!"

I stutter my thanks as Minnie clutches me by the shoulders and whispers her satisfaction. After five minutes of walking and waving for the cameras, we finally reach the entrance. The lobby, designed like a large circle, showcases the nation's golden eagle emblem on the floor. Across one wall there appears to be a digital map of the country, displayed alongside twelve clocks showcasing each timezone for every District.

"Children, I'll be parting from you shortly while your stylists prep you for this evening. I'll be upstairs conversing with your mentors on a game plan for the following week." At this, she pulls out a tablet from her purse. Curious of the workings of the Capitol gadget, I peer from the side of her shoulder as she makes a series of sweeps on the screen, sighing in happiness and then putting it back up again.

"Rose, you're in _luck_! Clay Basseterre, Emery's stylist, is _your_ stylist this year!" I smirk inwardly. If Clay was the same person who made all those extravagant outfits, I have no qualms what-so-_ever._

_"_Sage, you get the equally-as-good Priscilla Ainsley! Melody, you are off to see Livonia Pettit. All three are great stylists in their own right!" Minnie smiles, gesturing to three Peacekeepers who stand guard at the nearest elevator.

"If you could follow these three kind gentlemen, they'll take you down to your prep teams." She steps aside, watching as we wearily step inside the elevator with the three men clad in white. One of them swipes a card and presses a button with the letters "PR" as it lights up with a dull red.

The elevator doors open to reveal a serene and tranquil scene, a miniature common room to be exact. The walls are decorated with bright green tiles and the floor was adorned with indoor sized palm trees among other plants. The lights are dimmed low as candlelight takes over as the main source of lighting. Melody is escorted right while Sage is escorted right as well, his eyes locked on me with a confused gleam until he disappears behind a wall. I get a glimpse of some of the other tributes, but for the most part, I keep my head forward for my own sake.

"You'll need to remove your clothes," says a Peacekeeper as we enter my designated room.

I raise an eyebrow. "Wait, what?"

I expect that he'll draw out his handgun and bark at me to remove my clothing Like an Eleven peacekeeper would do, but instead he scoffs, folding his arms.

"Your clothes, how else are they going to work on you?" he grunts. "You are to put on that robe behind you once you finish," he says, closing the door behind him.

Not wanting to cause any problems for myself, I comply with his orders, peeling off my clothing before scrambling to my robe. I sit down on the fancy chair I assume that they'll be prettying me up on. I rise to my feet as one boy and two girls zip through the doors. They have smiles bigger than their faces, as they stand in tight formation. I can't tell who has more energy from the other as the three bob up and down, teeming with glee.

"Um . . . Hi there, I'm Rose?" I murmur, squealing as I reel back from the boy's sudden lunge from the middle of the trio. The boy is oriental in descent with sleek blue hair, eyebrows and eyes with an average height.

"I'm Kevin!" he chirps, doing a complicated twirl that can only be compared to a spinning top. Suddenly, he stops, finishing with a bow before bopping back into formation.

The girl on the right leaps from formation. Lanky like myself, she has flowing mint green hair that supposedly grows miniature flowers, daisies by the look of it.

"I'm Stella!" she smiles brightly as her fingers are splayed towards me. Out of the three, she seems the most wise and grounded.

"And _IIIII'm Stacy!" _the third one gushes, her hair styled the same as Stella with a purple base and bright orange flowers.

The three jovial stylists take in a deep breath, "And we're your prep team!" they cheer aloud, laughing obnoxiously ending off with a gleeful sigh.

"Ha ha ha ha ha . . ." I frown sheepishly, watching as they take me by the arms, release me of my robe and lay me back down to endure an hour of soap, water, waxing and above all, pain.


	6. Six

**_Six_**

* * *

><p>She has a modest sized bust and really immaculate curves . . . All in all, she isn't that bad." Stella cackles, her fingers trace my body as I raise my eyebrow a tad, "Clay's dress will look spectacular on her!"<p>

I wince as Kevin slathers some type of chemical across every inch of my body, burning it like a million tracker stings all at once. I can't help but feel violated as they exfoliated, plucked and washed me till I glowed. All in all, I think I've taken five baths so far and been slathered with that burning liquid three times now. Their hands travel freely across my body without restraint as if they've done this procedure millions of times before, which they have.

Stella wets a cotton ball in what seems to be a bottle of peroxide before dabbing it in and around my navel. Before I could inquire on what she was about to do, I find myself taking a deep breath inward and my fists being balled up against my sides as Stella pierces my skin with a silver needle. On top of that needle appears to be a sparkling ruby red gem.

"Sorry! I was just piercing your belly button . . ." she frowns, patting down my forehead in a futile attempt to soothe me.

"Is all this really necessary . . .?" I hiss though the searing sensation of my skin. That searing sensation calms as Kevin massages my body with what appears to be an oil of some sort, calming me a little but not a lot to subdue the pain.

"Well of course, silly!" chirps Kevin.

"She reminds me of Emery so much! These chariot rides are going to be perfection!" gushes Stacy, who continues to spray down my hair with who knows what.

"Don't fret Rose! We deemed you to be already at beauty base zero, so you didn't get as much prepping as the other might have!" coos Stella.

"What's that? Beauty base zero . . .?"

"When you look natural but _perfected. _Other than a few plucking and polishing here and there, you looked perfect enough! We just wanted to make sure." she smiles.

"Oh." I murmur, mumbling my thanks as they quickly get to work on my nails then my hair, frowning slightly as I hear the discreet sound of scissors being clipped among other things being put into my hair. Once they've finished, they adjust my seat allowing me to stand and see the finished product in front of a mirror, all before circling me like hawks looking for any possible flaw in their prepping.

Stella raises her hand, prompting the two other stylists to prance backward.

"She's finished! Polarize the mirror Kevin!" Stella and Stacy quickly dash behind me followed by Kevin as he quickly fixes the mirror to which I can see the prepped me.

"Well gall-_lee . . ."_

All I could do is smile in amazement at the transformation. I could safely say that if anyone back home saw me, they wouldn't be able to tell who I was unless they memorized my hair. My skin appears to be glowing, highlighting my natural curls that seem to be more plentiful on one end than they do the other end, giving it a lopsided effect. My eyebrows alongside my eyes are more defined, my lips full with ruby red lipstick.

"She looks so perfect already!" squeals Stacy.

"I can't wait to see the finished product!" Kevin adds.

Stella lightly places her hands on my shoulders, gripping them as she smiles. "You look _great_Rose, and you _will_look great once the chariots start rolling."

I offer my thanks before the trio begins to pack away equipment, clearing the room entirely in what felt like a minute.

"You stay here! Clay shall be here shortly." Stella chirps, winking as she closes the door behind her leaving me naked, cold and raw from the relentless scrubbing I had to endure.

As I stare up at the ceiling, I can't help but wonder what Emery's time was like during all this. Was she as confused and clueless as I am now?

Most likely.

I wonder about Mama and Pop, how they must feel knowing that they'll possibly loose two of their own within a week or so? I can't help but wonder about how this coming week will play out for the family. All I know for certain is that we'll be broken no matter what the outcome.

After about five minutes, a young man waltzes into the room wearing black floral pants and waistcoat. Like the trio, I estimate that he's in his mid to late twenties.

He's mocha coloured and could easily pass as an Elevener if it weren't for his short hair styled into blond curls and eyebrows. He's of average height, taller than me but not taller than Sage. His brown eyes are soft and patronizing, they remind me of the caramel I'd see the Larkin's, our local baking family making . . . all sweet and warm. I don't see much Capitol enhancements on him, unless you count his skin that seems too bright to be natural.

"You must be Rose." he purrs warmly, capturing my right hand in a light kiss. I battle the blush that creeps up my cheeks as I nod once.

"That's me." I say, returning his warm smile.

"I'm Clay, Clay Basseterre. I was Emery's stylist and now I'm yours." he extends his hand and I take it. "Well let me say right now that it's an honor to have you as my canvas. I'm deeply sorry about your guys' reaping and situation" he frowns.

I follow his notion. "I'll hold on for as long as it takes and _do_ whatever it takes." he nods at this, smiling.

"Fiery, defiant, _resilient._ I love it." he mews airily, turning towards the door with a low sigh. "Oh, right," he turns my way, a conflicted smile spread across his lips. "Do you mind if you . . . um," he gestures for me to rise.

"Oh. Right . . . sure." I comply with his order, turning beet red as he circles my nude frame. While his eyes scan from the crown of my head to the gap between my thighs, he types away with his data tablet.

"I can't believe it's been eight years," he chuckles warmly, "The last time I saw you, you were about yeigh high and now look! You're a very beautiful young woman. Do you have anyone at home, just curious." he smiles, raising his hands in false surrender.

"Thank you Clay and no . . . I don't really pay attention to boys." I frown. They sure did pay a lot of attention to me though and Pop quite the deterrent.

"That's unfortunate, any young man would be lucky to have your hand." he tosses me my robe, to which I quickly put on. "Come! Let us begin dressing you for this evening." he waves me over towards the door and escorts me towards a much more comfortable room. The room itself is spacey and comfortable, its walls painted a deep red supported by equally as icy white furniture and paintings neatly strewn across all four walls.

"Help yourself to the food, you may need to wait until you head up to your floor after the chariots for something more filling." he points towards a sofa with assorted fruits and finger foods directly beside it. I help myself to some diced pineapples as he darts towards a closet exploding with a variety of outfits.

"To be quite honest, I'm expecting big things from you three this year, regardless of this unfortunate situation." he pulls out a garment bag with the numerals "100" neatly stenciled onto it. "By law, you guys are going to attract _gallons_ of attention being Smithsonian's and all, but keeping that attention is all up to how you conduct yourselves this week."

I scoff, tossing a piece of pineapple into my mouth. "Like I haven't gotten that drilled into me on the ride here . . ." I murmur.

"Are you retaining it though?" he asks.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you retaining it though? What they're telling you?" he inquires again. I think about this for a minute or so. Wasn't I? The system was pretty straight forward, do what you were told, smile for sponsors and most above all, get noticed.

"I s'pose so." I say.

"I think so too, but your main problem I think is that you're very aloof, asocial." he counts the two flaws on his fingers while he talks.

I was about to offer a rebuttal to that claim . . . but he's right, I only act if acted upon. I had an abundance of friends, Malini and Savannah to name a few, but compared to them I probably was one of the least outgoing.

"So it really shines through, hm?"

He nods, "Compared to your brother Sage, at least." he cups my chin, "You're a _spectacular_ girl, really! All you need is a need bit more extroversion. Now, what were you saying about this whole situation? Being reaped?"

"I'd hold on for as long as it takes and _do_ whatever it takes." I repeat.

"Good..._Good!_" he laughs, "For this next week, I want you to live by that mantra. Be fiery, be resilient." I nod as he smiles, showcasing teeth as white as snow. "Now close your eyes! And no peeking, child." he reprimands as I comply with his order. I feel my robe being swiftly taken off and replaced by undergarments. After the undergarments came a fine linen around my bust and a separate piece wrapped around the lower half of my body, lower than the navel at least.

"Alright child . . . open!" he exclaims.

And I do. The young woman in my reflection looks like nothing I've ever seen before. I'm wrapped in a white, elegant cloth I can't exactly put my finger on. I do remember a year in which the District 2 tributes were dressed like gods and goddesses . . . but the way I'm dressed is entirely different, yet comparable.

"It's called a sari." Clay explains, "Its true origins hail from outside of Panem, in a nation by the name . . . of _India_ I believe . . ."

I nod, keeping my eyes on the mirror. The white blouse I wear stops just blow my breasts. The blouse itself is very tight-fitting as the neckline takes the shape of a heart, showing off a lot more than I would've wanted. The petticoat, which is ever so neatly designed with neat rose and thorn patterns, runs from my waist to the floor exposing my flat stomach and gem encrusted navel. I have an extra scarf designed and made of the same material draped over my shoulders to which I effectively cover the exposed space over my breasts. The dress captures my figure well, highlighting every curve I own. I wasn't given footwear and I don't think it'd matter anyway.

"What do you think Rose? Flower power is all the rage this year as you've may have noticed, so you'll fit _right_ in." he smiles gleefully at my image. The prep trio bops in, squealing in delight as they're eyes glance on my form.

"Oh. My. STARS! She looks so pretty!" yells Stacy. This earns startled gazes from the other stylists. It's much more amusing seeing these gazes on the faces of Stella and Kevin who are just as overly vapid as she is.

"Stacy?" Clay muses as Stacy nods vigorously in reply, "You see, Stacy darling . . . you're excitement is all the way up _here_," he leaps onto a nearby couch, pointing towards the ceiling. "You need to be-" he leaps down, pressing his body towards the ground, patting it, "-Down here, okay?"

"Okay!" she mews lowly, grinning all the while.

"This is some mighty fine work here Clay." I smile, taking in the intricate rose patterns on my dress. This is a zillion times better than being dressed in a straw hat and overalls. The trio claps with glee as Clay returns the gestures with a bow, "Thank you all, this is just the _inauguration_ of what Priscilla, Livonia and I have to come! But we're not done_just_ yet."

To finish me off once and for all, Clay and his prep team apply the final touches to my parade outfit. I'm given golden bangle bracelets to wear on each wrist, along with red chandelier like earrings and a rose bulb is added into the crook on the right side of my hair.

_"Perfection.__Now_ you are ready for the public eye."

I'm escorted by Clay through the halls of the Remake Center into the elevator. We end up going down one more level, revealing a large garage. People rush to and fro, Peacekeepers, Stylists and Escorts among others as the horses graze and neigh softly. Minnie flags us down by hopping up and down as she waves vigorously. The chariots are split into separate Districts this year, as there's two garage entrances as well as two sets of chariots for each door. If our outfits were overkill, our chariots are equally as dazzled as we are. More specifically, our chariot is decorated white with assorted fruit and flowers.

Minnie lets out a yelp of joy as she inspects my outfit. Her smile spreads from ear to ear as she carefully caresses my scarf, she sends an astonished glance at Clay who returns it with a bashful shrug. "Rose, darling you look _marvelous, smashing!"_she exclaims, her smile looking like it's going to fall of her face as Sage and Melody walk towards us. Melody is dressed in the same outfit scheme I am, only this time with a blue anemone pattern and gold trimmings while Sage on the other hand wears something different, but of the same fabric.

Sage smirks, "Look at you, _Princess_ Rose."

I remember Clay's previous words about extroversion. "You don't look to bad yourself. You look like a _real_lady-killer." Sage wears a white, long, sleeveless tunic with a green sage motif alongside a dark green scarf. The sleeveless part of the outfit was stroke of genius on his stylists' part, as his muscles are highly defined and are sure to get a lot of attention.

He shrugs. "Priscilla calls it a 'dhoti' or whatever . . . from a place called "_India"._Priscilla nods at this claim, patting him on the back.

"You all look _so_ perfect!" chirps Minnie as her eyes dart from Melody's, to Sage's and finally mine. "At least you three look presentable, unlike some of the others . . . _hmph!_I hope I don't offend when I say this, but the Hunger Games should be a youth only affair . . ."

As she says this I take the time to glance at the other tributes, which half of which are full grown adults. Minnie's words are true, very true. One of the males from District 6, about late forties to fifty, is wearing a sleeveless tunic designed in a tire like pattern with silver sparkles. One of the District 7 females of about fifty is also another example, wearing a typical tree outfit. Both outfits would've looked better with a more_'youthful'_model. Their aged body's make them look more goofy, if anything. I hope their training scores and interviews make up for this chariot ride.

"At least some of them look good, like District One, Two and Four among others." she prattles on, nodding towards the somewhat fractured group of Careers, all nine of them. Commander Ponder keeps conversation with Sapphire and the woman from Four. The Commander and partners are dressed in a formal military uniform. Its ivory white, decorated with medals. Sapphire drips with her name sake as both her bandeau and skirt are seemingly _made_out of them. The Four female is styled up in fish like pattern and it works for her. All in all, they look great.

But not as great as us.

"You're right, that gives us a chance to capitalize on the audience." I smirk.

"Exactly." nods Clay. We turn to see tributes preparing to mount their chariots and Escorts among stylists moving towards an exit, most likely to spectate themselves. "Oh, the rides are about to begin! Come Clay, we're going to be late!" urges Minnie, in turn gets a quick nod from my Stylist. He winks at me, backpedaling towards the exit. Melody takes the middle of the chariot, which is slightly elevated for her, as Sage takes the left and I the right.

"You're Smithsonian's! Remember that!" he yells, as the garage doors open and the cheers from the outside audience flood in. I watch as District 1 leads the odd number line while the rest of us follow. On top of the anthem, the ecstatic noise of spectators washes over us like a smothering blanket. Remembering Minnie's words about capitol sunsets, my eyes shift towards the air.

She was right about those sunsets. The sky was splashed with pinkish-blue haze, a slow shift towards a darker purple. The orange sun drowns in the horizon, giving it a much more distinct colour as it blends in with the clouds. The avenue of tributes is lit by giant torches and large jumbo screens that are currently focused on District 1's chariot. The three tributes, mostly Sapphire, commands the audience with their obnoxious whooping and waving.

About a minute or so into the rides the cameras were trained on us and the crowd responds with heightened cheers. On the screen to the right of us, the seal of our District is showcased alongside three images of us, seemingly staring off into nothingness. Remembering Clay's talk I wave, blowing kisses towards the men who return them with jovial catcalls. Sage on the other hand appears stoic and mysterious, sporting a small smile as he gazes forward. They chant both of our names with vigor, and as they do this I notice that Melody is receiving very little attention, as she timidly waves and scans the crowd. By this rate, I don't think anyone will be remembering her name by the time this is over.

I reach from behind and tap Sage, to which his eyes meet mine. He answers with a raise of an eyebrow. I make a hoisting motion with my hands, to which he smiles and shrugs.

The next thing Melody knew is that she was being hoisted up into the air, with Sage and I supporting the sudden move with one hand on each guard rail. She squeals, the first open noise she's ever made since being reaped. After a split second, she beams waving all the while as the crowd eats up this gesture. We maintain this position as we trot into the center of the avenue, facing none other than President Snow.

His hair and beard, like his name sake is as white as snow, making him seem a thousand times more wizened than he already appears. Wearing a closed off turquoise suit and a white stole, he seems slightly younger than he appears on television. That's most likely due to some sorta fancy schmancy Capitol enhancement.

He waves his right hand slowly, calming the audience almost immediately. I tune out his speech, having heard it dozens of times throughout my sixteen years of living. Instead, I take in my opposition. Some, like the male from Six specifically, gaze at us like we're the plague. Others on the other hand seem inquisitive about us, being related to "Panem's Sweetheart" and all. I meet the brown eyes of the thirteen year old from District 2, she seems less hostile so I send a nod her way and she returns it. The younger female from District 4 also has her eyes set on us. Sage sends a wink her way, to which she returns by perking her lips before shooting back around. Briefly, I meet the emerald eyes of Fritz from District 5 dressed in a sparkling blue thigh length dress with a lightning pattern across her chest starting from the shoulder. As quickly as I caught her eye, I'd lost it.

The next thing you now, the crowd starts cheering again and the horses make a roundabout back towards the garages. I look up to the balcony surprised to see the President's eyes trained on our chariot. Feeling brazen, I send a smirk along with a wink his way.

I smile even more as I watch him return my wry smile.


	7. Seven

_**Seven**_

* * *

><p>"That. <em>was. <em>Extravagant! Wonderful! Superb!" squeals Minnie as she rushes over to our chariot, leaving the rest of our team in the dust as they slowly lag behind.

"That was perfect children, your opening was just what we needed to capitalize on potential sponsors." Persephone nods in approval.

Vincent sends a silent thumbs up our way, then turns to me with a cocky grin. "Who are you and what did you do with the old, quiet Rose?"

I laugh. "She's still here," I smile warmly at Clay who returns the notion, "Just taking a little vacatio-.".

"-_eugh!- _Fuck off -_eugh!-" _Yelps Fritz from Five as she passes our chariot, supported by one of her District partners as if nothing transpired. Her outburst didn't seem directed at anyone, but more so a random one. Minnie retains a flabbergasted expression, but refrains from saying anything as Emery gestures for her to do so.

"Anyways, y'all did great. We already have numerous peop-" she trails off, gazing directly ahead of us. I turn to see an uppity Capitol man, the Escort from one, twirling a cane without a care as he waltzes our way. He's about as tall as Minnie, with a blue floral double breasted suit matching Minnie's double skirt dress. He wears a monocle, alongside long curly white hair with blue streaks on one side. Behind him are the older Careers, who gaze at us with the same intensity we shoot back at them.

"Mindelyn . . ." the Escort from one purrs. His accent is just as whimsical as his sisters, but carries a more sly yet pompous undertone.

"Ritchie . . ." Minnie beams with the most illegitimate smile I've ever seen my sixteen years of living. She scoffs and fawns over her nails As he walks on. In his place, Commander Ponder tips his hat off towards Sage and I.

"Good work out there you three. . ." his voice is husky, deep. "That was um, _quite _the performance. It's a shame-"

He cuts off what he's about to say next, but I'm positive I knew it was along the lines of "I_t's a shame I'm going to have to kill both of you."._

He addresses Emery, who kindly addresses him back. Ponder, along with the two women send wry smiles our way before being replaced with Sapphire. Her brunette hair coves her right eye as she leers at us, Emery in particular. Her singular eye, dazzled with black eyeliner sends a shiver down my spine.

"If you know what's good for you, Ms. Phoenix_, _you'd keep walking." presses Persephone. Sapphire smirks, raising her hands in defeat as she slowly slinks away. A dull silence envelopes our chariot as Vincent takes Melody by the back and begins to coax everyone to walk towards the elevator.

"I just love me some bravado . . . don't you? Come, lets head up to our floor, I'm hungry.".

* * *

><p>"If you guys thought that the train was too much then you three are in for quite the shock!" Minnie guides us through the elevator, revealing a fancy living space. Multiple coloured furniture is nearly strewn across the room and a large, singular window showcases a grand view of the Capitol's city center, among hulking skyscrapers of multiple size and colour. Avoxes stand at attention with their heads bowed. I quickly rush towards the window, peering onto the city streets below.<p>

"Welcome to the eleventh floor! Your home for the next week or so. " She takes a seat as if she owns the place. "Emery's old room is through that hallway to the left." she muses, smirking even more as I turn her direction. Sage picks up on this as well, shoving me as we dash towards our sisters former room, only to find it locked. Surprised, we knock twice, only to be received by a little girl with pigtail puffs bigger than her head. Steam flows out the room with her as she adjusts her bathrobe. She blinks twice, then shrugs before closing the door on our faces.

"I see she's already acquainted." Sage shrugs, laughing a little. We end up taking the rooms beside Melody's, the showers on par to those on the train. Just as I had taken off the chariot outfit at the foot of my bed, it was replaced by a white nightgown along with a silk robe I can wear over it.

Just as I finish up, everyone seems to be at the table, digging into assorted meals of all shapes and sizes.

"Come Rose! There's plenty of variety to choose from." coaxes Minnie.

I end up taking a in the middle of Melody and Sage. A female Avox serves me a plate of what appears to be pheasant, alongside salad with assorted toppings. The food as expected, tastes mighty fine but I still prefer whatever Mama makes over whatever anyone else gives me.

_Mama . . ._ poor Mama. I could only imagine the world of hurt she must be going through right now. I hope they stay strong for Clementine, Pepper and the Baby, they'll need their mother and father. Oh no . . . _The baby. _I could only imagine what would happen if both of us were to be killed in that arena. Mama wouldn't be able to take it, she's too loving, _too meek._ The baby wouldn't be able to take it either.

It's a domino effect, no matter what happens, they'll always be a negative side effect.

"Rose?"

"Hm?" I turn my head towards Persephone who gazes at me with a look of concern.

"Tomorrow's day one of training, and I was wondering if you had any skills from back home?" she lets out an amused cackle, "I'm your principal, I should know your strengths and weaknesses . . . hell, I even write yall's report cards." she scoffs, knocking back a mug of coffee.

"Erm . . . I was on the field hockey team alongside Emery? In P.E class I had a eighty seven percent? If that means anything to you?"

She nods, "So I take it you can run fast and don't tire easily." I ponder on this, then nod quickly.

"Good...Good. Quick and sturdy is what I like." she smiles, glancing at Vincent as she finishes the remainder of her coffee. He grunts, glancing at Sage who quietly eats his foods alongside Melody.

"So! Slick," Sage looks up from his plate confused before swallowing. "Any skills you'd like to indulge on? Super speed . . .? Invisibility? Your looks?"

"Umm, I don't know if tha-"

"Oh whatever Sage," I scoff, smiling all the while. "As you can see, he's built like a true farmhand. He can bench press more weight than anyone in Mr. Hazelwoods male P.E class. Give him any blade and he'll probably be an ace with it." I say, a little too fast for my own liking.

He glares at me, rolling his eyes as he nods with a so-so motion. "Yeah, that's basically me . . . plain ol' Sage.". Vincent nods, "Fair enough, we'll go over how you play this out tomorrow.".

As if on que, Emery gently taps Melody who turns our sisters way with a blank expression strewn across her face.

"Do you have any skills, Melody?" she muses with a comforting smile on her face. I perk up at the thought of Melody saying a legitimate sentence but instead, she just shrugs, muttering under her breath while excusing herself from the table. I turn to see Minnie frowning and the Victor twins trained on Melody until she leaves the dining room altogether. I can't help but not feel sorry for the younger one being outshone and tossed away, as if being an orphan wasn't bad enough.

* * *

><p>"People are most likely wondering how in <em>Panem's name <em>little Emery made it this far, eh Claudius?" inquires the Master of Ceremonies.

"You're correct, Caesar. People are in uproar over the death of Lucifer Jones of District One. It makes me wonder how this final fight will play out. The odds for Emery currently stand for 1-5, while Spinel Phoenix of District One stands at 1-1."

I watch as a twelve year old Emery, timid and scared, squares off against Sapphires older sister who seems extremely delighted to have met up with her. The cockiness of the much older Career is evident in the smirk she carries on her lips. Spinel calls her every name in the book, taunting her in an attempt to demean her. Emery attacks with her own insult, telling her that she's too big for her own self, causing the two hosts to chuckle and Spinel's face to flare up in anger.

"I don't know if it's luck that's gotten her this far Claudius or what?"

"I would say that it's her own resilience and defiance that's carried her along this far . . . oh look! They're at it!"

Emery sends two knives flying, only one makes contact in the Careers shoulder. The girl from One begins her charge as Emery unsheathes two hatchets, the very same that Sage discovered in her basement. They begin a dance of death, parrying each others blows while exchanging them with equal amount of force. Emery takes her first knick across the arm, then Spinel across her shoulder. Spinel takes the upper hand from there, kicking her into a pile of crates and further berating her with put-downs.

"Oh oh . . . Emery's folks back home are probably feeling the brunt of that one right now," the screen splits, one side showcasing the fight and the other, home. Mama, pregnant with Clementine, grips onto Pop while Magnolia, Sage and I watch on with determination. Sage among others yell into the screen, begging for Emery to get up. The camera then pans to Vincent and Persephone who watch with stoic expressions.

"Look! Little Emery's isn't done _yet!_"Caesar points towards the screen as Emery staggers to her feet, spitting out excess blood as she unsheathes her hatchets again. Her eyes blaze with defiance and determination as Spinel charges again. Its a stalemate from there, Spinel's bravado gets her a hatchet to the stomach and a knee to the face, sending both girls into the snow. As the two regain their bearings, they begin a chase towards the Cornucopia in which Emery gets at least five minutes of breathing space before Spinel's on her again. Emery receives a slash to the back of her knee, a slash across her back along with a stab to the stomach before Spinel sends her tumbling off the Cornucopia. Emery's bone juts out of her leg as she collides with the ground. She stumbles a couple feet before falling on her knees, almost as if she's given up completely. Triumphantly, Spinel deliver's a demeaning speech about how Emery tried so hard but to no avail, while the little girl convulses in pain . . . Then, she begins her final charge.

"I can't watch!" Caesar feigns, shielding his eyes partially. Just as Spinel makes the decapitating swoop, Emery ducks under the blow, plunging her old sword into the stomach of the older Career. The two hosts, baffled by the move, rise and out their seats in astonishment.

"Did she just do what I think she did!?" Inquires Claudius.

"I think she did! But wait, I don't think she's done yet!" Caesar exclaims, pointing towards the screen as Emery sends her hatchet crashing into Spinel's skull. She repeats the action over and over, with no sign of stopping anytime soon, even though the cannon had went and the anthem continues to play. Blood splatters against her face yet she still continues.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, your Victor of the Sixty Seventh Hunger Games, Emery Smithsonian! You see, this moment here, is the moment you never forget! When a tribute becomes a Victor! I just love me an underdog!" Emery eases off of the body of Spinel, gazing at her blood ridden hands, astonished at her actions before turning to receive Peacekeepers who surround her at every corner.

I'm here at around one in the morning in the living room of the eleventh floor, watching Emery's games. I just had to watch it again. To get a grasp of her situation. These games wouldn't make her hate the feeling of being hugged, or touched? By me, or other loved ones...

So what does?

The clamor of someone clapping causes the holomonitor to go off. I'm suddenly pale and short of breath, the feeling of being caught in the middle of the act.

"Who the_ hell_ do you think you are, going around snooping in other peoples business!?" you know who hisses, low enough not to coax the others out of sleep.

"I knew since the train rides . . . I wanted to watch it again." before she speaks up, I press forward with my words.

"Who do you think you are keeping this pent up rage and depression to yourself, when you have a family who's more than happy to take the burden off your shoulder, hm?" my voice cracks at "Family" but I refuse to cry.

I watch as Emery slowly takes her seat beside me, letting out an exasperated sigh. She glances at me before adjusting her robe. I don't know what else to do but lie on her shoulder. I'm taken aback at her lack of shoving me of but how she closes the space between us returns the gesture, gently stoking my back.

"How come you didn't tell us about Sixty-Seven yet?" I ask, sighing as she strokes down my hair.

"I felt like it didn't pertain to our situation . . . before the reaping of course." she sighs too. "Maybe a couple more years down the line I would've opened up to you. On the other hand Mama was adamant that I refrain from telling you about it."

"Why keep it in you? The anger . . . the sorrow?"

"So I don't hurt anyone else but me. I don't need anyone worrying about me, and that includes you and the family." she says instantly, thumbing the tears out my eyes. I don't push it anymore.

"Uh . . . I'm not really good with emotions, as you can tell, but listen to this," she crosses her arms. "This was a good first day for you, two. And as you know, I'm "Panem's Sweetheart", so that works in your favor sponsor wise. You and Sage keep doing you and I'll worry about the outside factors. Take care of each other, we'll worry about crossing bridges when we get there."

"And Melody?" I inquire, still curious about her well being.

"You need to stop worrying about Melody, and worry about yourself and your brother." I'm about to inquire again until she presses a finger to my lips, "She'll be fine.".

"If you say so." I smile.

"I might not catch you in the morning, for I have business to attend. If I don't, get all the information you can retain, get to know some people." she playfully shoves me off the sofa and prods me towards the hallway in which the tribute rooms are located.

"And um, Rose."

"Yeah Emery?" I turn.

She musters up the most genuine smile she can. "Um . . .Keep it up, the attitude." she nods.

And I do plan on doing so.


	8. Eight

_**Eight**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Emery <strong>_

"You make sure they get the best knowledge available to them, y'hear? By the end of this week they should get no lower than a seven."

"I'm sure something can be arranged . . ." he smiles.

"Perfect." I purr as I pepper his neck, jaw and cheeks with kisses that stain his neck red with lipstick. I gently tug him forward, smirking at the way he close shut and his lips perked forward in anticipation of meeting mine. After about three or so seconds I gently push him backward with a jab of my index finger.

"Thank you, Cassius!" I coo sending a wink his way as I trot from the gymnasium floor to the elevator, my hips swinging with extra vigor.

Everyone seems to be working overdrive for both Sage and Rose, to which I'm very grateful for. Yesterday was a perfect beginning for those two. They have our last name working for them, all they need to focus on is keeping ahead of the other tributes. Maybe an alliance with another trustworthy tribute or two will go a long way.

"Focus on the positives." said Persephone,

"We'll cross certain bridges when we get there." added Vince.

I frown inwardly at the words they said shortly after we had gotten onto the train. It seems that we're already resigned to the fact that at least one of them isn't coming home no matter what we do. As much as I want to scream and rebuke this fact, it's true.

But you can always try, right? For me, there is no '_no.' _in this situation. Those two will stay alive for as long as possible, even if it kills me.

I exit out the elevator and wander towards the main living room table in which Minnie sits at. Dressed in a poofy white floral print knee high cocktail dress supported by a golden belt, her facial expression is the total opposite of what her dress reflects. Her expression is drowsy at best, smiling slightly as an Avox serves her a mug of coffee.

"Good morning, Emery." I smile as I take my seat beside her.

"What happened to the overzealous Escort I know so well?" I prod teasingly, earning a modest smile as she captures my hand in a tight embrace.

"Darling . . ." she begins with a sigh, "They're my responsibility just as much as they are yours. It's only necessary I work just as hard as you three do. If it means being a thousand times more social, then so be _it!_"

I smile, "Thank you, Minnie.".

She dismisses me with a lazy wave. "No need for thank-yous . . . It's only a part of the job description."

We both turn towards the hallway in which Sage, Rose and Melody walk out of. Still stiff and sluggish from sleep, the trio take their seats in front of Minnie and I, mumbling their thanks as Avoxes serve them breakfast. We're silent for about an hour until Rose clears her throat.

"Training begins today, right Emery?" inquires, downing an entire glass of apple juice.

I nod once, earning a raise of the hand from Sage.

"Any advice? What did you do when you were in our shoes?" he asks.

"Well," I think back to the time in which I was just a meek twelve year old girl who could. "I want y'all to go all out today, listen to your instructors, and do what you please. There are more than enough people to blend in with. Basically, I want y'all to learn." I finish, frowning slightly at their nervous scowls.

"It's time children!" Minnie chirps, tucking in her chair as she zips towards the elevator followed by Sage and Rose. Before Melody could join them I pull her aside. I frown as I pat down the oversized brown puffs of her hair, as she can barely hold eye contact with me.

"Now I know you are as quiet as a whisper in the wind, which probably means you're awfully observant. Continue to learn, they won't care. To them, you're just thirty-sixth place . . . little did they know, you were just as prepared as they were. Keep on keeping on, y'hear?" I whisper, smiling brightly as I earn a nod in return.

She reminds me of myself, that Melody. There's obviously more to her than meets the eye . . .

* * *

><p><strong><em>Rose<em>**

A series of loud claps cause me to stare straight ahead.

"Welcome, tributes." says a woman, positioned on a pedestal. She's about as tall as Sage is, dark skinned and has dark hair styled into a pixie cut. Even Commander Ponder and the elder Careers stop their conversations to listen in on the imposing woman.

"My name is Atala and I am the Head Trainer in charge of this facility," she continues, her eyes scanning each and every one of us as I smooth out my black skin tight uniform which consists of leggings that leave little to the imagination, and a bandeau that leaves my gem encrusted navel exposed. It seems I've attracted the attention of the District 10 adult male, who sends an unnerving wink my way.

My eyes dart the other way_ immediately._

As Atala continues to go over the essentials, I take the time to review my fellow tributes. For the most part, everyone appears to be attentive. Melody is off towards the side, while the younger Careers quietly mutter amongst themselves. I'm surprised to see Sage chatting it up with that pretty girl from Dee 4. I'm quick to find my eyes back on Atala as soon as my eyes met Sapphires.

"We now have a pool installed, which I suggest you use to your advantage. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

And with that, tributes young and old dart off to stations strewn across the gymnasium. As the older Careers alongside outer district adults head off to weapons training, I'm surprised in seeing the younger Careers moving towards the pool as they chatter among themselves. I send Sage a curious glance, holding him back as he began to saunter in their direction.

"What?" he smirks, "It's just like the watering hole back home." he shrugs me off, leaving me alone for a split second before I follow shortly after.

The pool was large, _very large. _Persephone and some other teachers were talking about getting a pool built in our school. I don't think I'll ever see the day. We _did _live in District 11 after all, the school itself was a pipe dream come true.

The water itself was deep and clear, clear enough to see the teal tiles below. It was weird, changing around the other female tributes, and they surely felt the same way I was as we courteously kept our eyes to ourselves.

As we finished changing into the bathing suits supplied to us, we were instructed to slip into the shallow end of the water and await our instructions. While the younger Career boys and girls hollered and screamed as they plunged in, I simply sunk one foot in at a time as I wadded myself over to Sage, gritting my teeth all the while.

"Do you think the pool means something arena wise?" he asks me with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe? You could never be too certain about what they have up their sleeves." I shrug, noticing some of the eyes trained on us still.

The instructor, a handsome young man with chiseled features and slicked black hair comes into view. Judging by the suggestive murmurs from the other girls, they must think the same way I do.

We begin with complicated exercises, such as 'treading water' and 'strokes' . . . Back at the watering hole in 11 we just _swam, _I didn't know there were so many complicated words for all the different movements you could do. After about half an hour of light exercise, we were clear to change. Just as I slip out the pool, an arm slinks around my waist as its hand rests around my navel.

"Howdy sunshine." the voice purrs, causing my stomach to rollover in disgust.

As if putting a naked hand on a hot kettle, I wriggle out of the man's grasp while meeting his face. He's about twenty five years of age as far as I can tell . . . he looks like your typical roughneck the Capitol portrays the citizens of District 10 to be, with his rugged and dare I say _"Handsome"_ features. Most notably being his sandy brown hair and blue eyes.

"Well 'cuse you . . ." I roll my right hand in a repeat motion,

"Dallas." he finishes with a snide smirk,

"_Dallas." _I sneer, "I don't appreciate your 'lil _'advance' _on me. Why don't you hit on a girl your age?"

He frowns, scratching his head all the while. "How old are you, twenty?"

"_Sixteen . . ." _I reprimand, my lips twisted in disgust. As if I've sucked the juice out of a lime . . .

"Hmph, with a body like yours it's hard to tell. How you girls get those curves, I don't know." _Where's my father when you need him?_

After a minute of intense staring, grinning on his part, I mutter my goodbyes, turn heel and begin to make my way towards the girls change room.

* * *

><p>After learning how to clean meat, tie snares and a rigorous gauntlet which involved trainers hitting you with bats as you bobbed and weaved through obstacles, I decide to bide my time by trying out some plantwork. I'll focus on weaponry tomorrow. Toning down the day with a subject I'm already accustomed to. As I walk towards my station, I can't help but take in my various competitors.<p>

Sapphire and the older woman from one, Ambience her name is, train with curved swords. Ambience herself looks typical in the sense of a District 1 female with cascading blond hair and _green _eyes.

As their eyes land on me, Sapphire goes to work on a dummy. Not less than five seconds later and a series of intricate twists and cuts later, the dummy is a mangled mess on the floor. I ignore her smirks of triumph and turn to my left, watching as Sage wields a scythe under the watchful eye of an instructor. From what I see, he looks pretty good with it. I can hear the blade cut through the air from here.

Just beside my brother is Ponder, who despite his middle age effortlessly destroys pixelated targets with a mace. I frown as the dummies faces disintegrate into yellow nothingness as the Commander delivers thorough blows. I'm not surprised if he doesn't end up winning this thing . . . with over twenty years of military service, he still looks like he's in the prime of his life.

"I still prefer my whip." he jeers towards Peacekeepers who laugh along wholeheartedly. Of course he'll be buddy-buddy with the Peacekeepers . . . I send an uneasy frown Sage's way as he reflects it back.

"That's nightlock Vienna, it'd kill you faster than a knife would I bet . . . or it least it_ looks_ like nightlock."

"This_ isn't_ nightlock, dad. It's a blueberry, I'm certain." retorts the younger daughter as they huddle over a table. I instantly recognize the father-daughter pair as the two that were reaped in District 9.

I kindly ebb my way between the father-daughter pair, smiling slightly as they watch me with confused eyes.

"Umm, this here is nightlock. You can tell by the purplish-blue colour it's got goin' on. It'll kill you faster than a knife could, yes." I smile as I hand back the deadly berry into the father's hands. "I'm Rose Smithsonian." I extend my hand to shake, only to continue to receive the odd glare from the duo.

"So this is the sister of the youngest victor . . . You guys take after each other a lot." he chuckles.

I smile. This complement is nothing new to me. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," says the man. "I was pretty shocked myself when she had beaten that career. That takes a lot of spunk." he peers above my shoulder, "Speaking of careers . . ."

We turn to see the older female from District 4. I'm not too sure about her name, Anguilla? She had just taken out two separate holograms with a single armed toss of her trident and a third one with an underhand throw of a knife.

"Yeah . . . we got a lot of killer competition this year." the daughter mutters.

"They ain't all that. ."I scoff, smiling as the father finally extends his hand and envelopes mine in a firm embrace.

"Now you really remind me of your sister! I'm Reiben, Reiben Breithaupt." he states softly. I receive a headnod from from the daughter. "I'm Vienna." she beams, "Nice to meet you.".

As I look at them now, I find their situations compelling and might I say, above or right around me and Sage's. Who would've known a father and daughter would be reaped at once.

Reiben is a man of about at least forty five years with neat, deep brown hair medium length adorned with grey streaks and brown eyes along with ashen skin. Vienna takes after him heavily, retaining curled brunette hair and an olive skin complexion. I assume that she's no older than sixteen.

As the lunch bell rings, I say my goodbyes to Reiben and Vienna as I join sage in the dining room. The dining room is jaw-dropping for a training gymnasiums', as the seating was something you'd see on the trains coming up here or our in our floors themselves.

"What'd you do for the past couple hours?" I inquire as I fill my plate with a salad mixed with some sort of meat. I tend not to overdo it with food, simply because I don't have an affinity for it. This weird habit of mine earns harsh reprimanding from Mama.

_"It ain't right, withholdin' food from your body and what not. Folks out here are hungrier than a spring bear." _she'd soothe.

Her words bring a smile to my face.

"Scythes, spears and swords. One of the instructors were _real _nice to me, as if he were suckin' up." my brother says with a shrug, "I guess the fame is making its way our way, I don't know." he plops a milkshake onto my tray and leads me from the kitchen towards the dining area.

I frown as the girl from District four, the youngest, waves us over.

"You're in cahoots with them?" I hiss under my breath.

"_No!-_ Well-" Sage shakes his head stubbornly, "It would do us well to get a couple people on our side. Play nice.".

I hold my tongue as we take our seats among the four younger Careers. All eyes are on us, moreso me rather than Sage as we adjust ourselves.

"She looks a lot like her . . . not gonna lie to you." says the brunette from Four.

"Coold've sworn she was 'er!" exclaims the thirteen year old from District 2, her accent as thick as white on rice.

"Distinct looks run in the family, what can we say . . ." Sage smirks, tapping my shoulder. "Rose, that's Splendour from One."

The eighteen year old boy with greased blond hair and typical blue eyes sends a cocky smirk my way. Silent, yet cocky . . . I return the smirk, alongside a handshake in which he returns firmly.

Before Sage could move to District 2, she's already halfway across the table, shaking my hand. She's of a scrappy build, probably around my height too. A part of me writes her off as annoying, but with that feeling comes a genuinity about it. In her brown eyes is a rowdy and headstrong thirst for action.

"Th' names Berglind. Pleased to make yer acquaintance." she says with a sly wink.

"That's Carrie." says Sage, as the brunette sends a sneer my way to which I reflect back.

Carrie's pretty, real pretty. Her curly brunette hair cascades over her right eye, leaving one brown orb. Her skin is of a tanned complexion. She obviously might have a few sponsors under her belt already.

"Judging by the way you're eyeing us up, you obviously find our kindness fake which you should . . ." she drawls, "But I just respect your sister, is all, and I- _we - _just wanted to know her siblings a little bit more."

"That's nice . . ." I say flatly, watching as Melody quietly eats to herself. Maybe I should join her?

"Its always good to know someone in the arena," says Carrie in a sing-song tone, "Especially with the elders eyeing you up like no tomorrow."

All our eyes turn towards the corner table in which Ponder, Sapphire and their lackeys eye us up with uneasy smiles and faux waves.

With a heavy sigh and a roll of my eyes, we turn back to our table. "I don't get why she's mad at us for something I had nothing to do with."

"Revenge baby," purrs Splendour, his voice is rich and low, like a whisper. "You're basically the next best thing to her . . . she goes _on and on_ about you."

". . . As I said, if I were you, I'd rather face the hurricane with a couple like-minded individuals. I wouldn't wanna face them one on one." hums Carrie.

I turn back towards the elder Career table, returning Sapphires glare with an indifferent gaze. I wouldn't mind knocking boots with her, if that's what she wants so badly . . .

* * *

><p>After lunch, I swing back to the survival stations while Sage fiddles around with weaponry more. I frown with disdain as Carrie struts herself around him, laughing and smiling with feelings I want to think are false.<p>

Everyone seems to be in their elements, even the adults (the teens this year are still the majority), seem to be getting a hand of things. Most of the adults seem competent with weaponry from what I can tell. Even Melody seems to be doing alright, as she works away diligently at different knots and medical supplies, a definite plus from living in a community home where they might teach you more hands on skills.

Dallas, the creep from District 10 who caressed me at the pool, spars with a trainer in which he narrowly loses.

"For fucks sake!" he roars, stumbling towards District 5's female tribute I have recently dubbed as "Fritz" for the twitchy and unhinged look about her.

"Gimme that!" he swipes the sickle she was using straight out of her hand.

"Get your own weapon!" she squeals.

"Or else what, twitch?" he spits, turning around as he prepares to strike a dummy.

The next part will most likely be the highlight of my time here.

Fritz spins the young man from Ten around and lands a solid punch right in the kisser, enough to make him guffaw and fall into a weapons stand. Everyone's eyes are fixated on her as Peacekeepers converge on the station. While they help him up, she quickly places the curved blade on the metal table beside her and darts off towards the elevator as the bell rings, signalling the end of training day one.

* * *

><p>As soon as the image of the cautious girl appears on screen, Emery freezes the film. The girl looks exactly like Fritz with her curly orange hair, creamy beige skin peppered with freckles, emerald orbs and a voluptuous build.<p>

"Isabella Wilkinson or Izzy for short._" _says Emery, "Without her, I most likely wouldn't be standing with y'all today."

"I knew they were related one way or another." I say, eyeing the screen as Izzy combats the boy from District 1.

"She was crazy, the way she just thumped him the way she did. By the way she looks I didn't think she had that in her." says Sage.

"She was unorthodox just as much as she was underestimated, so I expect her sister to be just as crazy as she was." our older sister walks back towards the dining room table. As we join her, Persephone and Minnie with Vincent in tow, barge out of the elevator and towards the kitchen.

"They loved you darling!" Minnie chirps airily.

"Me?" I say dumbfounded, mouth contorted in a frown as Persephone drops a magazine onto the glass table that resonates with a large _thwack._

"_Capitol Couture_

_Rose Smithsonian: The Belle of Eleven voted best dressed tribute alongside her District partners!"_

The magazine illustrates me lying down on a bed of roses, in Clay's sari, posing with my bare stomach, gem encrusted navel and my silk scarf blowing behind me. My dark skin seems to glow as I send a seductive wink the readers' way. Inside the magazine is a photo of each of the tributes, alongside a miniature discretion of their height, weight and threat factor.

"They _love _you alright . . . I'd wish they'd stop over-sexualizing the tributes." mutters Persephone as Emery gives off a slight frown, picking it up into a smile as I look her way.

"At least she holds their attention. With the tributes they have this year, a little moxie wouldn't hurt anyone." perks Minnie with a shrug from Vincent.

"For once, I agree." he nods, earning a pupil change from standard blue to a lighter, sparkling complexion from Minnie.

"It helps us maintain her edge. No matter how sultry." adds Emery.

"How do they even pose her like that? She didn't pose?" inquires Sage.

"They have the technology to alter images. You don't need to physically pose as much." answers Persephone.

I say nothing, as the Avoxes bring our main course out. We all smile as a smoked turkey is placed smack dab in the middle of the table, supported by wild rice and salad among other sides. I can't help but make side glances at Emery, as she continues to frown at Sage, then me. Was it about the photos? Emery is adored and loved by millions, so I don't see why she would be uneasy about a little photo?

We dig in. Talking about training and the things we did today. Persephone wants me to work on weapons, while Vincent offers Sage all the praise in the world. When Minnie inquired Melody about her account of today's happenings, she glanced at Emery, smiling as she made a zipping motion against her lips and tossed a fake key away. This earns a smirk from Emery and me of course.

"What about your alliances?"

Sage and I stare up from our plates, with the same dumbfounded looks in our eyes.

"What now?"

"Allies, did you find anyone?" asks Emery again with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah of course, the younger Careers." mews Sage, sending a cautious look my way. He knows my ill feelings for them, alongside the fact that I wasn't consulted on joining them.

This earns uneasy stares with a mixture of content.

"As long as you trust them, and they have nothing to do with the elders." presses Emery firmly.

" 'course, we trust them fully. They have nothing to do with the elders." he smiles, cutting me a sideways glance.

Before I could offer my objection against Sage's bullshit, the Avoxes quickly take away the smoked turkey and replace it with seafood, alongside sides like corn and mashed potatoes. Melody wasn't even halfway done as the Avoxes take away her plate and replace it with a fresh plate of seafood, earning a shrug from her as she digs into the next plate.

"Well, excuse me! We weren't quite done with those!" Says Minnie followed by a sharp bark of her lapdog, snapping after the Avoxes who ignore her and stand back at attention.

Our mentors share a couple of uncertain glances, the glances turn into glares as a team of Avoxes replace our blue living room furniture with red ones.

"B-b-but we don't do maintenance until after the Games have concluded . . . Hey!-" Minnie snaps her fingers towards the Avox team who enter the elevator and leave without acknowledging us once.

"How _rude!_" murmurs our Escort as her dog lets out a discontent whimper.

That was weird, _very _weird.


End file.
